This is the second in a series of posts about water safety. To read the post I wrote right after the accident, click here. To learn more about water safety, check out this post.
You know how sometimes you find yourself in a situation where you’re kind of blindsided, where you see something or you hear something and you don’t know what to say or do in the moment? And then afterwards, you think of all the things you wish you said?
That happens to me a lot. I’m not confrontational. I’m a people pleaser. I don’t want people to be unhappy or uncomfortable and have me be at the root of it all. I once joked that if my life were a Sara Bareilles song, it would be, “Say what you want to say…in an email…and then live in panic while you wait for them to respond and wish that you never said anything…” If I hate my meal at a restaurant, I will probably not say anything. If you hurt my feelings, I probably won’t tell you. I’m a terrible delegator because I don’t want to ask anyone to do a job I would hate to do. I would pretty much make the worst boss ever.
I’ve thought for a long time, a long, long time about writing this. I’ve put it off because it gives me anxiety, because I don’t feel like I’m ready, and then I write a Scoop post about fonts or something. But it keeps kind of resurfacing in my brain, consuming my thoughts, until I do something about it. So I’m doing something about it. And, to be honest, I feel a tiny bit sick to my stomach about it.
You know how everybody has their thing? You’ve got your car seat safety friends and you’ve got your Internet safety friends and you’ve got your bike helmet friends and you’ve got your screentime-is-evil friends, and sometimes you have all of them rolled into one person. Well, guys, I’m your water safety friend.
I shared the story of my son’s near drowning in October of 2012 here. Even though I posted right after the accident, I don’t regret it. Sharing was therapeutic, and the many, many words of kindness, most of which I never responded to, mean the world to me. So if I never thanked you personally, I’m so sorry.
But I was in a very raw place. I couldn’t say things the way I think they need to be said because I couldn’t say those words.
Grief is a funny thing. Even though we didn’t lose him, we came awfully close and I went to a really dark place. I don’t think that made sense to most people, even myself, because he was okay. It was like it happened and then it was over, but it wasn’t really over, you know? I spent a lot of time on the internet googling drowning. What happens. How long does it take. I call it grief porn, because even though I knew it was something that was exploiting my emotions and probably not good for me, I felt drawn to experiencing and re-experiencing all those emotions until I was tapped out.
I became angry, not really at anyone or anything, just intensely, rage-fully angry. It was like that was the only emotion my mind could process, so I did it at full-throttle.
I stopped feeling anything (besides anger) for a good year. In a desperate attempt to feel something, I watched Toy Story 3, which sent me over the edge for a good three weeks when it came out in theaters, and I left shrugging my shoulders.
I became convinced, completely neurotic, that something bad was going to happen, particularly to my youngest. Every time I put him down for a nap or left him with a babysitter, every time we got in the car, I thought that was it. I became totally and completely (and irrationally) paralyzed with fear. I seriously bathed him in a baby bather until he was 9 months old and practically walking out of it.
Finally realizing I needed help, I went to a counselor, who diagnosed me with PTSD. She was very nice and I liked her a lot, but then Clark started having panic attacks (everyone who told me that it would be way harder on me and that he would bounce right back have never met the most intense child on Earth) and I felt like I needed to focus on him. Whether or not that was the right decision, I’m not sure (actually, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the right decision, but I felt like I only had so much time and so many emotional resources), but we focused on getting him through that rough patch.
So now? We’re mostly good. We all have our moments, and sometimes something as simple as a smell or a song can trigger those overwhelming feelings of anxiety. But we’re good. A very wise social worker in the hospital told us that he absolutely had to get back in the water, not just because it’s a crucial life skill but because if we didn’t, it would be this monster that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
So he’s taken several rounds of swimming lessons and it’s become something that he loves. Usually.
So why am I telling you guys all of this? For a couple of reasons. I want people to know that even though he’s okay, it didn’t come without incredible emotional implications like guilt, fear, anxiety, anger, and isolation. I want people to know that things could have very easily gone in another direction, that we were exceptionally blessed/lucky/whatever, and that most people who come that close don’t make it, at least not without devastating side effects. I want to talk about what it was like, what it was really like, and I want to say all those things I wish I would have said, in hopes that we can save another family from an experience like ours.
I think most people have seen the “Drowning Doesn’t Look Like Drowning” article. I shared it when I shared Clark’s story before. If you haven’t read it, you really should. If you have read it, it’s worth looking over again.
But.
What about afterwards? Because just as easily, you could say “a drowning rescue doesn’t look like a drowning rescue.” Sara and I have both said that if more people had seen what it is actually like, they would be infinitely more cautious with their kids around water.
If you guys watch Mad Men, you might remember a scene in the most recent season where Don is at a party and is partaking of late-1960’s-ish substances that he shouldn’t be. In a hallucination, he walks up to the side of the pool and sees himself floating face-down with his arms extended. Then someone jumps in and rescues him and pulls him out of the water and although things clearly are not good, his coloring is Jon Hamm-ish beautiful and they lay him at the side of the pool and smack him a few times and he coughs up some water and then puts on a robe and goes and sits in a chair.
That’s not how it happens.
When my daughter told me that Clark was under the water, I asked her if he was playing or if he was in trouble and she told me she thought he was in trouble. When we turned around, he was on the floor of the pool, face-down, with his arms extended, just like you see in pictures. It still haunts me.
At the side of the pool, Clark was purple, from his nose all the way down through his chest. Once Sara’s husband resuscitated him, he didn’t just expel pool water. There were a lot of hysterical, extreme emotions, not just from us, but from many in the pool area, whether or not they knew us. It was ugly, it was intense and terrifying and messy and nothing like TV or movies.
- Drowning is the #1 killer for kids between 1-4, #2 behind car accidents for kids between 5-9, and #3 behind car accidents and suicide (!) for kids between 10-14.
- Drowning is silent and generally involves very little motion because the body is thrown into survival mode. No yelling or splashing or thrashing.
- Slipping under the water can happen in just a few seconds. The body loses consciousness without oxygen in 1-2 minutes, sometimes sooner depending on how hard the person was exerting themselves.
- Small children can drown in an inch of water.
- Even kids who have been good swimmers in controlled environments (like Clark) can panic when things suddenly don’t go as planned.
When Clark slipped under the water, I was looking up directions on a map on my phone. I got sidetracked by a funny text. Wanna know how long that took me? I timed myself. About a minute. So I timed myself doing other stuff. Going to the bathroom? 3 minutes. Making my bed? 3 minutes. Unloading the dishwasher? 7 minutes. Watching a kid swim across the pool and back? 2 minutes. Reading and answering a simple email? 4 minutes. Talking to my sister on the phone? 12 minutes. Comforting my daughter who got confused about sleepover dates? 5 minutes. Then try holding your breath and you’ll see how desperately quick that time goes by.
I have a dear friend who lost her son to drowning and she compares kids and water to kids and heavy equipment like chainsaws–you would never, ever take your eyes off your kids around stuff like that, and you never can with water.
Last summer, on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram, I saw all sorts of stuff pop up about pools and lakes and water and I wished I’d had the guts at the time to say something, but I didn’t. Not to make anyone feel bad; I truly don’t want anyone to feel bad or like I’m judging them because I’m not; I just want people to think, really think, about how dangerous the water can be (along with being fun and necessary, which is part of why drowning is such a prevalent problem). If our experience can prevent this from happening again even once, I’ll take it.
- I wish I’d said that arm floaties, noodles, air rafts, and anything other than an actual US Coast Guard-approved life jacket are not safe and create a false sense of security. Unless kids are great swimmers and are just using them for fun, these things shouldn’t be used.
- I wish, when people said they sent their younger kids to the pool with their 12-year-old that they would realize that a 12-year-old isn’t physically or emotionally capable of caring for many small children near the water.
- I wish I had said that lifeguards are there to administer emergency assistance and not to babysit.
- I cringe when I see pictures of adorable summer toes and a great summer book and a refreshing summer drink while kids play in the pool without their parents.
- I cringe when people talk about singlehandedly bringing their 5 kids and someone else’s brood to the pool by themselves. You’ve got two eyes that point in the same direction and two arms; until some of those kids are old enough to pass a life-saving course, there are not nearly enough people there.
- I am totally uncomfortable with summer day camps for younger kids that involve swimming as an activity (I’m not talking about swimming camps where kids are learning swimming skills, but just where they go play in the pool. There was a drowning like this in my area a few years back with a teenager who was not a strong swimmer.)
- If I could go back and tell my pre-near-drowning self something, it would be to ask what the heck I was doing holding a three-month-old baby with my feet in the water while my kids swam in the pool. What would I have done if no one else had been there? My sheer presence would not have saved anyone. Where would I have put the baby? What would I have actually done?
- I’m not afraid to say that unless it was a one-on-one swimming lesson, I am not at a point where I am comfortable with any of my kids being in the water without me being right there.
I ask that you decide to comment to keep things nice. I’m not writing this from a mean or judgy place, I’m writing it from the most tender recesses of my heart. Likewise, if you have something mean to say to me about our experience, even though it’s been a year and a half, it will still hurt and I will still probably delete it, not to be an evil censoring overlord or to have you only say nice things to me to make me feel better about myself but just, well, because.
But first and foremost, as we get closer to summer, as you guys start your family vacations and beach trips and lake trips and pool parties, I hope you guys will take this to heart. I hope you’ll stand up and be vocal when you see people being unsafe near water. I hope you’ll take charge and designate someone to watch the pool at a party if it hasn’t been done. I hope you’ll get in the water with your kids, regardless about how you feel about yourself in a bathing suit or how tired you are. If you can’t give 100% for whatever reason, save the pool for another day. I hope you’ll teach your kids these things so when you aren’t there, they’ll know, too.
I love you guys. I really do. I feel like so many of you are my friends, so thank you for all your continued love and support. Here’s to a fun, happy, and safe spring and summer!
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Questions & Reviews
I know I already commented, but I just wanted to share a tip my mom used to help kids be super water safe. We took the swim lessons, but we also had to complete 3 summers of competitive swim team, even if we weren’t fast or disliked competition. I hated it at the time, but that repetitious swimming and tough coaching made me into a really strong swimmer. I asked my mom recently why she was so insistent about swim team, and her response was because my oldest brother had a near-drowning incident as a 3 year old! I never knew, but I have been so grateful she went that route and plan to do the same with my kids.
Wow. After reading your first 2 paragraphs, my immediate thought was “Were we separated at birth?” You described me to a T. I have to say, though, that you are far more brave than I am for posting about your son at all. Wow. You are STRONG.
I, myself, have a crippling fear of water and cannot swim (I’m very, um, dense and sink like a rock if I try to float). I did take swim lessons when I was a kid and have a horrific memory of being dragged out of the pool when I couldn’t make it back to the side after practicing treading water.
ANYWAYS….my husband is a very strong swimmer, thankfully, and our kids are in swim lessons (no choice!) and are doing fairly well. I have anxiety watching them in lessons, though, even though they are being watched and there are lifeguards all around. I don’t take my eye off them for a minute though, despite this. We were recently in Hawaii and they were the only kids on the beach wearing lifejackets, but it’s non-negotiable. They want to go in the ocean? They wear a lifejacket and my husband has to be within grabbing distance. I was having mini-panic attacks watching little kids (my kids are 9) running in the waves or on boogie boards with no parents near or even watching. I really wanted to scream “Watch your kids!!!” but, being non-confrontational, I didn’t. I was too focused on obsessively watching my kids as they were in waist deep water LOL.
I’ve rambled but just wanted to let you know how impactful your post was and let you know how much admiration I have for you posting this!
Thank you, thank you, thank you! You so eloquently said how I feel. I was a lifeguard before I had kids and so I know the signs of drowning- but it’s scary how most don’t. I’m so sorry you had to, and are still going through this traumatic event in your life.
Kate….I LOVE YOU! You are perfectly brave! This article touched my heart in so many ways. I found myself almost yelling out loud at the computer…YES at each sentence. You know I echo and support each and everything you wrote in this post. I’m like you, I don’t speak out much, but this topic is boiling more and more within me and it seems a water advocate is part of my new life and destiny. Thank you for not only taking the time to write this, but relive those difficult moments and fears. I’m sure it wasn’t easy and I applaud you for it. Although I don’t like the reason, I’m so thankful you have come into my life and I can honestly call you friend! So much love to you!!! And oh that Clark….I really do want to meet him someday. He’s a special one!
I consider myself a protective mom, but I needed this wake up call. I realize I am not as cautious as I need to be when we are at the pool. Thanks for helping me see and change that.
Thanks for this… I hope your readers will take the advice to heart. We had a near miss with my son when he was 3 (he’s almost 11 now), even though I was the most vigilant mother I knew around water. We have a backyard pool (it came with the house). It’s separately fenced and locked. Even though my kids are older now (age range: 8-13), the rule is that anyone found inside the pool fence without permission (say, to fetch a ball, or feel the water), is DONE swimming in the pool for the rest of the year. No one has tested me on this, because they know I’m serious. I also make their friends show me their swimming skills – if they’re not strong enough for the deep end, they have to stay in the shallow end or wear a life jacket.
Thank you for having the courage to finally write about your experience, and for passing on great information!
Thank you for sharing more of yourself with us and for the reminder that most of us need. As I read through this my heart was breaking for you. What a horrible thing to have happen and worse when it is your own child. I can’t even begin to imagine how this must have been for you. A couple of summers ago we had an experience with my niece, we were at the lake with her family and we got distracted for just a few minutes and that is all it took. Thankfully we caught her before she lost consciousness but I can still see her floating face down. That was enough to make me quite paranoid for a while with my own kids but I had forgotten about that and I needed this reminder especially now that we live in a neighborhood with a pool. I know that I don’t really know you ladies in person but I am grateful to you for sharing parts of your lives with us. I find that my heart aches with you through the difficult things and rejoices with you through the triumphs and happy times. I hope you have a wonderful day.
Thank you for a great reminder. I have always been very anxious about taking my son (who will be four this summer) to the pool. He is so busy and moves so fast that I know I can’t take my eyes off him. I am always in the pool with him and never sit on the edge of the pool and chat with the other moms. And to be honest I feel like I’ve been judged for being “too cautious”. I think as moms sometimes we worry a lot about what other moms think about what kind of job we’re doing and I almost felt like I was getting peer pressure to back off a little. When I’ve taken my son to the pool for play dates, all his little friends are in floaties and he’s the only one in a coast guard-approved life jacket. One time someone sort of jokingly said, “Well he’s definitely not going to drown, is he!” Umm, yeah, that’s the whole point. So judgement can go both ways, and it’s definitely dangerous to judge others for taking safety seriously. Thanks again for your honesty and for reminding us all that you can’t be too cautious around water.
Kate, thank you so much for writing this. Our children and so precious and we need to be reminded not to take anything for granted. I literally have tears flowing right now.
Thanks so much for this post. I will definitely be thinking about this and implementing your advice with my family.
Kate – sending good thoughts your way. I appreciate your honesty and sharing of your emotions. My younger son had an accident involving a brick wall and his face almost 3 years ago. My husband and I were right there – I was taking pictures of him. We can’t help but relive that expereience over in our heads on a very regular basis. Whether or not others think we should be “over” it by now doesn’t matter – it 100% affects how we parent and our over cautious behavior. We do the best we can. I feel for you completely.
I’ll be more careful at the pool this summer – thank you!
Thank you for having the guts to put this out there. It’s uncomfortable for me to read but so important. We are renting a house with a pool right now and while I have had some awful daydreams about drownings and have tried to keep my kids and other kids safe, I still am not as careful as I should be. I will be better. It does happen so fast. Thanks for being so awesome! I don’t know you in person but I just love when you write, Kate. I can always relate to you.
As a previous lifeguard at a waterpark, I would just like to thank you for this post. So many people don’t realize how fast and scary drowning can be. I can’t tell you the number of kids I’ve pulled out of the water. I’d just like to add that parents shouldn’t rely on lifeguards. We’re there as a LAST resort. This post was perfect. There is nothing in this world that can substitute for a parent’s close supervision.
Wow. I do not know you, but this post really brought tears to my eyes. I cannot even imagine what losing or almost losing a child would feel like. Nor do I want to. I agree with all of this post 100%. So many people are laid back about things. I hope you and your family continue to heal from this.
Thank you. As a new mom to a one year old, I have wondered how to do the swimming thing with her. You have made a VERY large impression on my heart. So thank you!
I’ve always been super paranoid about water and kids. Thank you for talking about your experience so that parents can be more vigilant. Your honesty could very well save lives.
Great article! I thought everything you said was very well thought out and totally non-judgmental. I’m definitely a “safety” mom and receive a lot of criticism for ‘helicopter’ parenting. I had shared your other post and the drowning video with my husband’s siblings and their spouses because you just happened to post it right before we all went on a large vacation to Arizona. We had planned a lot of pool time and stayed by a large lake and all of our kids are super young (like 22 grandkids under 10). His family laughed at and taunted me for being so paranoid and anxious. It was pretty miserable, but I’m just not OK with the possible consequences of unsupervised children around things like 4-wheelers, pools, horses, streets, etc.
Dorky…but I love your comment.
Not Dorky! Someone liking what I had to say made my day!
This is a fantastic post! It’s probably good that you waited to say the rest so you could really think about it. I feel the same about water, I love swimming and water sports, but going to the pool with three kids always feels a little daunting. Another thing to add is that if you have a pool in your backyard, it should absolutely have a fence around it; like the tall black metal fences with a locking gate. Thank you for being willing to share not only the incident but the aftermath, your lines about how the rescue really looked made me feel sick to my stomach.
Thank you.
Thank you for publishing this post! I manage a pool that sees thousands of visitors daily. The rule we have the hardest time enforcing, is the 5 and under parents in the water rule. 90% of all our rescues are children under 6. Even trying to enforce this rule, I get yelled at, my boss gets complaint emails about how the pool is run, and my lifeguards are becoming afraid of the parents
Thank you for such an insightful and thoughtful post. I can only imagine how difficult it was to express yourself. Thank you for being brave. My thoughts (and virtual hugs!) will still be with you as you continue to cope and grieve. I admire your strength. I worked at Primary Children’s for 6 years and my experiences with near drownings have never left me. Thank you for talking about a tough subject in such a helpful and realistic way. I feel so strongly about safety and vigilance around water. I’ll definitely be sharing this post! All the best to your sweet family!
Thank you for being so open about your anxiety. For different reasons, I, too, have been overly, crazily paranoid about something happening to my kids. It is an awful, awful feeling to be constantly overcome with fear and being unable to enjoy everyday life. Thank you for posting this. I’m glad I’m not alone.
Thank you for your post that will no doubt save someone’s child! I really love your site and your recipes, but this may be the most important post you will ever write! Thank you!
Thank you for writing this. It’s terrifying to think about but so important to be constantly vigilant about an often overlooked life-threatening danger. I, too, often leave my son in the bathtub while I go unload the dishwasher or something… maybe not anymore.
Oh Kate. My heart goes out to you. When my youngest (of 3) was a toddler, we had been on a weekend trip and the bag I carried all our random “stuff we might need” including first aid/medical supplies was sitting in our bedroom, just outside the master bathroom. It was a Monday morning, I had just gotten the older kids off to school, and because I was exhausted when we got home, I had not put away everything from our trip yet. In the time it took me to pee (with the door closed – a luxury and my downfall), my son unzipped the bag, grabbed a bottle of benadryl caplets – a 100 count bottle – opened it easily despite the child-proof cap, and ingested who knows how many – there were only a few left, and we didn’t take benadryl all that often, so it could have been a lot. Everything turned out fine in the end, but I was a blubbering mess who really could not offer much help at the ER, and it still haunts me how quickly our kids can get into serious trouble. With kids now aged 27, 22, and 16, I’m here to tell you, it’s still that way. I hope you and your family continue to heal. Forgiving yourself is SO hard to do.
Thank you for writing about this. I am not a mother (yet hopefully) but I think I can be too lax about water safety with myself and others. Thank you for helping make it serious again for me.
Thank you also, bc your post made me realize that I am sometimes on the other end of the spectrum- teasing or being judgemental about others when it seems to me that they are “over-protective” around water. I now realize you really can’t be protective or safe enough.
Thanks for being so honest. It’s so great you are dealing with this head on and haven’t gotten out of the water. My husband had a near drowning experience as a kid and never got back in the water. He doesn’t know how to swim and he’s scared to learn. I had one too but my mom got me back in the pool as soon as possible and in swimming lessons much longer than probably necessary. Thank you!
Thanks.
Thank you for sharing your feelings. I spent my teenage years in Arizona. My mom would not buy a house with a pool for this very reason. My sister loves to take my little niece swimming. I will share this post with her.