I like to believe I am a good parent.
Not an all knowing parent mind you, but a well intentioned dad committed to showing up for my daughter.
I like to think that I can keep her safe. That our home is a safe haven for exploration, learning and other good stuff.
Then the other day, while Mari is taking a nap alone in the master bedroom I hear a loud thud on the floor. Immediately I knew she had fallen off the bed.
I rushed down the hall to find her facedown, arms flared to her sides and a loud piercing cry emanating from her wide open mouth. Evidently she had woken from her nap and, without making a fuss, started crawling around and eventually off the side of the bed. It’s about a two and a half feet drop.
My wife rushed in with a look of horror on her face. I scooped up Mari off the floor and looked her in the eyes. I wanted to believe she was ok. I wanted to check for any visible damage.
The tip of her nose was a bit bruised and there was a little bump on her forehead. Nothing too bad there. But it was her cries that were unsettling. As a parent you get to know your child’s cries. The I want attention cry vs. I’m hungry cry. The I’m tired cry vs. I’m in pain cry. The more severe the need, the more primal and enraged the cry gets. The more visceral. As a parent you can feel the emotion in the depths of your being.
In so many words, Mari was inconsolable. Her cry was primal. Eventually we fed her some formula and she calmed down. Her tears subsided, but our collective guilt for being negligent parents only grew. Ultimately we just wanted her to be ok. To know that she was alright and would be herself again.
My wife Googled what happens when babies fall hard and per the Internet, was exposed to a variety of horror stories. I do not recommend doing Internet research in a state of panic, for you will find what you seek and more panic will ensue.
My wife and I went on a date night that evening that we had planned for weeks. We watched the new Star Trek movie and though we enjoyed it, we still carried the guilt of setting our daughter up to fall on the floor. We ended up missing Mari and wondering what she was doing, and wanting her to be ok. I did a lot of comforting. For us it was a matter of simply believing she would be ok. That was all we could do (we did email our doctor just in case). And we recognized that the responsibility and blame for the situation was shared by both of us. We are a team, through smooth and rough sailing alike.
My wife and I are both striving, high achievers. We want to do well. At everything. Failure is inevitable. It is a part of the process of success. But when I fail as a parent, as I feel I did that afternoon, the nature of failure is much more palpable and in some ways feels irreversible. Thankfully, Mari is ok. But what if she wasn’t?
Talking to other parents, it seems everyone has a story about their child falling. At some point in time, at 3 months or 3 years, a fall will come. It’s kind of like riding a motorcycle. However good you are, chances are you will take a spill at some point in your riding career.
So what is the lesson here? For one, don’t let Mari sleep by herself unless she is in a crib. She is way too mobile these days. She can be on our bed, but supervised at all times. Until she learns to recognize edges.
Further, accidents happen. Despite our efforts, we cannot possibly shield our daughter from every danger in the world. Not that we are trying to per se, but sometimes it feels that way. And especially when it comes to taking a hard fall. That is a freaky thing- that we can try as hard as we can and something can still happen. It is a humbling factor of life. And unsettling as a parent. But maybe also a little reassuring that as long as I continually work to put my best foot forward as a dad, the rest will sort itself out.
And who's to say that a fall is always a bad thing? Have you heard the story of the Zen master? We’ll see. And thank God Mari is ok.