On New Year’s Eve, a heartbreaking story unfolded in Colorado when a 6-year-old boy went missing. Tragically, he was discovered unresponsive in a nearby pond just days later. This situation is every parent’s worst nightmare—a sentiment echoed by media coverage. Reports indicated he had a dispute with siblings and had wandered off before. While the details are still murky, the immediate reaction was predictable: How could the parents allow this to happen?
I’ve come across claims that the boy’s mother was at work, and a grandparent was supervising him. Whether that’s accurate or not is irrelevant. When Jessica Ridgeway was taken from our community four years ago, she was simply walking to school while her mother, who worked nights, was resting. Can you imagine the agony of not being there to shield your child from danger? It’s unfathomable.
As I scrolled through comments on the local news Facebook page, I encountered remarks like, “If my kid had a history of wandering off, I’d use a GPS tracker,” and “Where were the parents?” The onslaught of judgment is relentless—we see it in response to tragedies like the gorilla incident or the alligator attack at Disney World. It’s as if these comments are a way for us to convince ourselves, ‘That could never happen to me.’ But deep down, we know it can.
Every parent has had moments of distraction—whether turning their back for a second, checking their phone at the playground, or letting their guard down even just a little. None of us are infallible. The complexities of life, illness, and the unexpected are beyond our control, and that’s the hardest part of parenting—something we can all agree on.
Reflecting on this, I remember a scene from a show where two individuals watched a child rollerblading, heavily padded for safety. One remarked, “Someday that kid is going to get bitten by a tick and die.” It’s a dark thought, perhaps even inappropriate, yet it resonates with the reality of parenting. We can take all possible precautions, but we can never foresee every danger. The unpredictability of life is often what we fear most.
When a friend of mine experienced a second-trimester miscarriage, another friend, who was newly pregnant, expressed relief in thinking they were “out of the woods.” I wanted to remind her: We are never really out of the woods. From conception to adoption, or even the planning stages of parenthood, we have so much at stake. Perhaps the motto of parenting should be: Parenthood: We’re never out of the woods.
We can educate ourselves on abuse prevention, teach our children about safe-person passwords, role-play various scenarios, and promote healthy habits. Yet, the painful truth is that we can never guarantee our children’s safety. That knowledge alone can be crushing.
Here’s what I know for certain: judging and shaming other parents has never made a child safer. It’s a natural response to feel overwhelmed by tragedies involving children. I’ve felt that sting myself, crying uncontrollably after accidentally watching a heartbreaking video of a father in a war-torn region with his deceased children. The urge to protect ourselves from these harsh realities is strong, yet we cannot look away.
Instead of succumbing to despair, let’s channel that emotional turmoil into compassion for parents facing unimaginable loss. We can envision the horror they live through, and that’s something we should not dismiss. Our instinct to judge is often just an attempt to feel secure through moral superiority. Let’s choose to replace that judgment with empathy.
For more on navigating the complexities of parenting and the emotional challenges that come with it, check out our other blog posts, including one on home insemination. Resources like Facts About Fertility offer valuable insights into pregnancy and home insemination, while Make a Mom is a trusted authority on the subject.
In summary, it’s crucial that we stop the cycle of blame and judgment when tragedies occur. Instead, let’s foster compassion for parents who are navigating their worst fears—after all, none of us are truly out of the woods.