Never a dull moment around here, that’s for sure.
Seriously, this summer has been brutal. Seems like one good scare after another- stuff completely random and out of our control. I guess this is life, and it’s been throwing us a few curveballs. But I’m ready for it. Sure enough, this weekend was a good test of that.
Andrew has been out of town for the past three days, so on Saturday morning, rather than sleep in a bit and have some family time like we usually do, I gathered up the boys and we headed to the Botanical Gardens to enjoy the beautiful cool weather. We were some of the first people to arrive, so we took our time to enjoy our space while it lasted. Before long, it became very crowded, so we headed out of the Children’s Garden and walked down the long, winding, shady path to the koi pond so the boys could feed the fish. The fish food dispenser was broken, so I tore tiny pieces off the pizza crust we had brought for lunch with Emil strapped to my back in the Ergo carrier. Soon, he was arching his back and whining to get down so he could get a better look at the fish. I let him down and picked him up, holding him tightly around his waist while he peered over the edge of the bridge into the water as the fish teemed below. A little boy, not much older than Emil, had climbed up beside us and was leaning way over. I thought to myself, I would never let my kid do that without my arms around him. I wasn’t judging his parents. It wasn’t like that at all- just more of a thought about how little I trust my kids around water, and how freaked out it makes me when they get too close.
Emil wanted to join his brothers, so I followed him down the path which led to the water’s edge. At the small fence (really just two thin pieces of wood- one about a foot off the ground, the other four feet high or so), Milo and Oliver threw pieces of the bread into the water. Emil quickly reached the edge, and I stood behind him as he threw his first piece in. And then, he leaned over too far, and disappeared into the water.
As fast as lightening, my body reacted. I was right there. Arms in the water immediately, I felt, but could not see through the dark pond water, the back of his shorts, grasped in my left hand, suddenly pull away as he sank like a stone. I was in immediately, arms and head first, grabbing blindly in the murky water. I got him by his legs, pushed him up above me. I couldn’t touch the bottom, and my long dress and the carrier, still attached to my back, dragged and pulled at me, the water feeling thick as molasses around my legs. My shins and knees banged and scraped against the stone wall beside the pond as I tried to stay afloat. Emil was up and out of the water in seconds. As I surfaced, I yelled for a woman to grab him while I went back under to get leverage to push him the rest of the way out. She grasped his legs and pulled him out upside down. His eyes wide, he didn’t even sputter. All I can imagine is that he had held his breath. Not even a cough escaped his lips, no water had been swallowed. He rubbed the water out of his eyes and I exhaled, knowing he was okay.
I pulled and dragged myself out of the water with some effort and stood dripping and trying to catch my breath as I took Emil into my arms. He had started to cry, and as I held him and hugged him, trying to reassure him, I noticed that Milo was bawling. Oliver looked bewildered beside him, trying to process what he had just witnessed. A crowd had gathered, asking how they could help. People were literally patting me on the back and telling me that I had reacted like only a mama could: fast as lightening and before anyone could really tell what was happening, we had both been in, then out of the water. But I didn’t feel brave- all I could feel was sheepish, embarrassed, and shaky. And very wet and cold.
Once I knew Emil was alright, I carried him over to the stroller, where I had rolled up a small towel for the boys in case they had wanted to play in the splash ground. It was chilly, so they had decided against it. I removed Emil’s boots, socks, shorts, and shirt, and wrapped him in the towel. We walked the half mile back to the car, ignoring the strange looks we deservedly received: a soaking wet, drowned rat of a mama with a soaking wet carrier barely hanging from her waist, carrying a bundled-up mini version of herself while two shocked-looking, dry boys walked solemnly beside her. I left a trail of soggy footprints behind me. The whole time Emil kept repeating, “Unna wawa,” “Unna wawa,” “Unna wawa,” his version of “under water.”
Yes, buddy. You were under water.
On the drive home, I kept thinking of this video I had seen of a toddler who had been taught by his parents to turn over and float if he fell into their pool. How my kids didn’t know how to do this, and how even Milo doesn’t get much time in the deep end; how even though he’s getting to be a pretty good swimmer, I’m not sure he would have been able to swim himself to the surface of that pond. Oliver surely would have sunk to the bottom. It was a good reminder about how fast this sort of thing can happen, and how on top of your kids you have to be near water. Upon arriving home, I ran into our neighbor, who relayed that just last Friday, her four-year-old daughter had jumped into the middle of their pool without her life vest on and sank to the bottom. She, too, had jumped in, fully clothed, to save her daughter.
I can’t wrap my head around how much drama there has been in our lives this summer. How many close calls, how many brushes with… bad things… but I hope that the pendulum is ready to swing the other way please, pendulum, PLEASE start swinging the other way. The way to peaceful and easy and a little less life-on-the edge. It has been anything but boring around here.
A thought crossed my mind after I put the boys to bed Saturday night. That having children makes us vulnerable through their vulnerability. Anyone who has rocked a feverish or croupy sick child to sleep in their arms knows this. Any parent who has rushed a little one to the ER for any number of reasons knows this. Anyone who has grabbed her toddler’s tiny body merely moments before she ran into the street, inches away from a speeding car, knows this. Or choking. Or falling off of something, going under water at the swimming pool, or disappearing from your sight suddenly. It just makes me sick to my stomach thinking of their vulnerability. And yet, we can’t wrap them in bubble wrap and keep them indoors to protect them from every unforeseen danger…
… though right now, I’m seriously considering it.
Oh, Lauren! Wish I could give you a hug! I’m so glad you are all ok. Here’s to pushing the pendulum in the other direction.
Oh.my.goodness. I got all teary eyed even reading this. You have had yourself quite a bit of excitement this summer.
I’m glad he’s okay. I think monitored water trauma is much scarier for adults than children. I remember being at a babysitters house when I was very young and still unable to swim to save my life. I jumped into a pool thinking I would grab onto the giant inflatable whale in the pool, but didn’t quite make it to the toy and sank… no babysitter around, no living person saw me. I held my breath. I remember thinking… I hope someone comes outside really soon or I will die. I was like 5 years old… I knew I was going to die.
The babysitter must have heard the splash because I felt a strong arm around me pulling me out and saving my life. Even the thought of what that babysitter must have felt brings me to tears. She was probably scared silly. I, on the other hand, was just relived. It didn’t scar me for life but has made me think so differently about what I do with Lo and how I train her in the water. We start swim lessons on Saturday for her and she’s just 9 months. This is something I MUST instill into her… because I am scared silly…
You are brilliant for jumping in. I think most people would have reacted that way… it’s just hard to think about being in that situation. I applaud you for it. It’s amazing. I am glad he’s okay, you’re okay.
Human life is so fragile, sometimes it’s easy to forget that. I think everyone feels those brushes, those close calls… I can’t imagine us being humans who ever figured anything out without them. Thinking of you all today and sending my most sincere and positive thoughts your way. <3
Oh, Lauren! I would still be shaky today, if I had experienced what you did.
Good job, Mama, on saving your son’s life! Now go hire a babysitter and go enjoy the meltdown that you so richly deserve (with wine, ice cream, and chocolate thrown in). My God you have had a crazy “near-miss” summer! I hope that pendulum swings way over to the other side, and quickly!
I’m just so happy that your life stories have had happy endings!
Hugs,
Heather
Ugh! Dark water is the worst! I’m so glad Emil is just fine! Now…. Go get that cocktail I emailed you about. Nothing worse than your kids scaring you like that!
So, so scary. I think what makes it worse than just a regular pool scenario is that the water was murky and you couldn’t see him. Just thinking about that makes me feel panic in my chest.
Both of my kids have done this at some point, but it was in pools so fortunately it was easier to see them. When Julian was 2, he just stepped off the edge and sank like a stone to the bottom of the pool and I had to jump in fully clothed to save him. And on our recent trip to Maryland, Audrey fell in the pool while Wade was packing up. He said he had *just* seen her, and then she was gone. He looked down, and she was at the bottom of the pool, with her little arms reaching up. GAHHHH.
It’s so stressful when that kind of stuff happens to kids and part of you wants to yell at them out of fear, and the other part wants to hug them tightly and buy them ice cream because they’re so precious.
I’m so glad you guys are all okay. And poor Oliver and Milo, who had to worry about both their mama and brother. That’s a scary thing to see.
Unimaginable, scary stuff. Thinking of you!!
Wow, Lauren, how scary. (And how crazy that I had just told you about a similar incident with Frankie.) I know exactly how you feel.
Please do something nice for yourself.
And pendulum: Please swing in the other direction, right now!
Love and miss you.
xoxoxo
wow! that story had me holding my breath. what an experience you all had! i am so glad that things turned out just fine and that you paraded your boys heroically through the park and right on home. i wish i could’ve seen you, i bet you looked oddly beautiful and fierce and not at all like a drowned rat. i bet people figured out what went wrong and felt for you thoroughly. you are such an inspiring mama. i think about the fragility of life and children ALL THE TIME now that i am a mother. i try never to let fear get too pervasive in my mind, but man oh man, i don’t feel the same about anything, roller coasters, pools, chairs, steps, blankets, anything. hooray for you mama, and yes, a break is much in order.
Lauren, that is so terrifying! You are such a good writer that I felt like I was right there with you. I’m glad everyone is ok. I completely agree with your thoughts about how vulnerable kids are, and how vulnerable that makes us. I feel it with A now as she is 4 1/2 and se eager to be independent, but C is getting ready to crawl and is into everything! Scary stuff.
I agree with everyone who encouraged you to take some time for yourself. These are stressful things and you need to take care of yourself.
Hugs to all of you!
so glad you are all okay! I sometimes think I’m over protective with my kids, especially with water. but water is really so scary when they can’t swim. I would have jumped in too. You are such a good Momma!
oh and one more thing. We’ve had asthma attacks, peanut allergy reactions, the flu…all when my husband travels. why is that?!
Two words: perfect instincts!
The thought of that happening to my boy is terrifying! The other day we were at the pool with friends. They have a 3 and a 5 year old. What does the 3 year old do for the split second his dad was helping his brother with his life vest, but teeter over the pool and jump! Note: no life jacket and no swimming skills. Quick as a whip, the lifeguard jumped in and got him and he was fine. However, what is up with kids and NO SELF-PRESERVATION instinct vis a vis water?!!?!
Lauren, I am sorry yall went through this. Harrison fell into our neighbor’s pool a few weeks ago, and I, like you, nearly lost my heart after the incident…just thinking.
So happy all is well now, and water is a non-issue for him. ((Hugs)) and hope the rest of the summer is well, sunny!
Oh my gosh. This summer is just being terribly intense and dangerous with you. Sending you loving, safe, sunny vibes. And hugs. So many hugs to you and your boys. And yeah, I think I’ve said it before, but you’re such a rocking mama bear.
Oh my goshhhh!!!! This is seriously terrifying stuff. I could literally feel my chest tightening when reading about that murky water. So so glad your sweet Emil is ok. What a supermom moment, diving in that pond to save your boy, I could just give you a big hug right about now! Bless your heart mama, I hope you had a nice long bath after that day!