As both Winter and Spring breaks quickly approach and many families will be traveling, I wanted to take a pause from this months theme of screen time. I wanted to post about an experience my family and I had traveling last year. This was an experience that happened almost a year ago and took me that long to decide whether I wanted to share this story and how.
But I wanted to share what happened, hoping it can prevent another family from having a similar experience. And because I know I’m not alone in experiencing parental guilt when we feel like we’ve made a mistake. Most importantly, I wanted to share how I approached working through this experience within my own family.
When I had my first son, as a pediatrician it was easy to fall into the trap that I shouldn’t really make mistakes as a parent. I knew better. I had spent my twenties learning how to keep kids safe and prevent them from disease, how to keep them healthy and thriving.
I didn’t expect to be a perfect parent, but I also wasn’t ready for how it would feel to make mistakes. I suppose none of us are. Holding a newborn, all we can feel is the unconditional love and devotion we have for them, our mind is filled with dreams for their future.
And those dreams do not include the mistakes we will inevitability make.
Just as we are never prepared for the love that immediately consumes us when we first hold our newborn child, we are also never fully prepared for the downpour of guilt and shame that showers us when we make mistakes as parents.
The hard part about many mistakes we make as parents is that they are often in hindsight. Most parents I know are well-intended, and have done what they thought was right, what they thought was best, at the time. Sometimes our decisions are based on evidence, other times our guts. Sometimes they are carefully thought out or sometimes, they are reactionary as we are forced to think quickly on our feet.
But these mistakes can leave impressions on both us and our children — if we let them.
As a young mom, mistakes, even small ones, hurt. I was disappointed in myself and only tried harder to research more. My mind never rested.
But with seven years parenting experience, I have learned to look at my mistakes differently. Mistakes are part of the parenting process I am still learning. And by acknowledging them, I allow myself to quickly pass through the guilt and move onto learning about how to prevent them and do things differently in the future. Knowing these mistakes don’t have to define me as parent.
And sometimes, if we are lucky, our mistakes afford us the opportunity to rewrite the story. Perhaps, we might even learn to find comfort in some of our mistakes.
To truly make my point, I have to share my story, my experience traveling with my family last spring. It is a story of one of my worst mistakes as a parent. It’s a story that as I shared it with family and friends after we arrived home, I felt terrible. It was a story I never planned to share on my blog. It felt too hard.
I remember thinking, how did this happen to me and my family? It seemed like a bad dream.
But this story has a happy ending. And not just in the immediate outcome but in the months that followed. This experience tells the story of how my family took a very scary day and months later, found a way to heal together and rewrite the story from being lost, to being found. From being scared, to being prepared. And from feeling alone, to knowing we are all growing together.
It was a spring day and my family had traveled thousands of miles all the way to Disney World. Our travels had been anything but magical and many times I wished I had a few Genie wishes or a fairy godmother to wave her wand and magically transport us to our destination. Travel has never been particularly effortless for my family but this experience traveling was one for the books. Eventually, we made it to our destination just in time to meet our family members who were joining us at Hollywood Stories for the day. Let the magic begin!
But the travel was exhausting and despite early bedtimes and leaving days to rest in between, by the middle of the week, my husband and I were exhausted, overstimulated, and the magic had started to fade. Disney World can have that effect on families. We had made every effort to not overextend ourselves but it seemed the universe had different plans and things kept popping up along the way. We were tired.
But as the end of the week approached, we also wanted to maximize the time we had left with family. We had planned a day at Animal Kingdom and the kids were excited to join their cousins for the day. So we decided we would go, and stick to the plan to only stay for half of the day. We would head out shortly after lunch, making it in time for those who needed a nap. The radar didn’t look very good for the afternoon anyway with thunderstorms coming in so we figured we would head out before they rolled in. We had a plan.
Except that nothing about that day seemed to go as planned. There were only a few rides we wanted to go on but coordinating them with family was proving to be more difficult than expected and the day seemed to be escaping us. By the time we were ready to eat lunch, our chance to sit down, thunderstorms came through earlier than expected and everyone got cold and wet. We considered leaving but my kids had a few more things on their list they wanted to do. My oldest had a lighting pass to ride the Avatar ride with his dad and uncle, an opportunity he was craving. And I personally, really wanted a chance to see the safari. So we waited out the storm in a few gift shops and eventually it did clear.
Finally, it was time for Avatar. And shortly after, one more ride — the safari. So we stayed. It was only 2 o’clock in the afternoon and the storms had already rolled in and passed. What could go wrong?
The weather looked promising we could get through one more ride. Just one more ride.
We waited in line and minutes before we were to get on, my oldest needed to use the bathroom. I realized when we had all just stopped for a pee break, he was the only one who hadn’t gone. My typical, “Everyone has to try,” mom lyric wasn’t sung that day and I forgot to ask him to go. So, standing in line almost ready to board, we all stepped out of line. We weren’t going to try and race him to the bathroom and get back in line, we wanted to stay together. We always stick together. We are a team. So we all got out of line and headed to pick up our stroller. Just as we stepped out of the shelterd area, that’s when the flood came. The skies became dark and that Florida rain dumped buckets on us. Suddenly, we were soaked.
The rain was coming down so hard it was hard to see, hard to hear, and truthfully, hard to process everything going on around us. I took out the blue ponchos we had purchased, and put one on all of us, trying to salvage any fiber of dry clothing we had.
My four year old gave me a hard time, he did not want to wear one. But in that moment, my response was reactionary, quick thinking on my feet, and I popped that blue poncho over his head anyway. That blue poncho that I’m sure you’ve seen, the one everyone else is wearing at amusement parks. It blends in with a crowd.
Trying to stay dry and preserve time, while my husband strapped our youngest in the stroller, I turned to him and let him know I was taking my oldest to the bathroom. I told my husband I’m taking “him” to the bathroom. Except that in the thunderous rain we were stuck in, the word “him,” sounded a lot like, “Them.”
Them implied I had two of our three boys. My husband was carrying our youngest, strapping him into the stroller when I said that, and assumed I had taken our older two boys to the bathroom.
But I didn’t.
Strapping our youngest in, my husband headed to the bathroom to meet me — we would stick together.
Except that we weren’t all together.
Walking out of the restroom with my oldest, I saw my husband standing with the stroller holding our youngest.
But…where was our four year old?
WHERE WAS OUR FOUR YEAR OLD?
He had just been standing next to my husband. Albeit, he had turned around away from us because he was upset over the poncho — but he had been right by him.
I ran to my husband asking him where our son was — and his face told me all I needed to know. I told my oldest to stay with his dad and I ran. I’ve been a runner my whole life and there’s never been a sprint I ran faster. I was running for life — my child’s life.
We weren’t all together. We had lost our kid at Disney.
That was never something I expected. We followed all the rules. When we handed our kids off we would say who we had. I had always dressed them in bright colored shirts, matching shirts, when we traveled to make sure I could always keep track of them in a busy airport or amusement park. We had the bracelets with my phone number on them — except they had been left at the hotel this particular day. But we had always been so careful.
How could this nightmare have happened to us?
I ran towards where we last saw him and a woman asked me if I was looking for my son, the grief of a mother who has lost her child is unmistakeable. I only remember her pointing her arm to where he was, I never heard what she said because I was already gone to find him. Standing nearby, he was safe with a park employee. He was safe.
His outstretched arms towards me and the grief on my face, told that park person he was my son. I don’t remember him verifying he was my son, I just remember grabbing my son and never letting go of him the rest of that day.
I carried him throughout that park in my arms. I never let him go until we got to the car and I knew being strapped in a carseat on our ride home, was the one place he was finally safer than in my arms.
When we got to the car, we all debriefed. My four year old had been terrified he lost his family, my oldest scared he lost his brother, and my husband and I distraught we could have lost our son. I didn’t hold back the tears as I told my son we weren’t going to leave that park without him.
The magic was gone.
That night instead of putting him to bed and letting him wake with nightmares or come searching for us, I let him sleep right next to us. I knew he needed to feel safe that night and that was my only priority — we would fix any sleep issues that came of it later. Him feeling safe and secure was my #1.
The day that followed, we had our last day and it was Magic Kingdom. Looking back at photos of that day, you can see that experience drained my son. As the parade of songs and dance came through, his face was still. He was not our musical four year old enchanted by Disney World — he was our four year old in distress. Despite moments I know he had fun in, he wasn’t himself.
The days and weeks that followed were hard. My husband and I at times became easily frustrated with each other, wanting to make sure it never happened again. And watching our son, it seemed to be having lasting effects. His tantrums escalated and his feelings of being the “middle child,” the “lost child,” in the family surmounted many of our days.
But following my rule that I will only allow myself one sleepless night of worrying about my kids when they are struggling with something, I awoke the next morning and decided we needed a plan.
So I started strategizing. Part of the initial strategy when this all happened was to make sure my husband and I resorted back to our tried and true method of calling out the names of the kids we were taking responsibility for if we split up. Except this time, I wasn’t going to say, “Him” or “them.” I would say their names, I would call out a number, and I would show that I had one kid by holding up my index finger.
We got our son a Gizmo watch. We knew the summer ahead would be filled with baseball games, amusement parks, and festivals. We had less fear that we would be separated from him again and more fear that he wouldn’t feel safe. The Gizmo watch was his chance to feel independent and have control. It was a tool to give him a greater sense of security knowing he could reach us. And it actually has turned out to be a great resource. When he wanted to speak to his grandparents, he called them. It allows him the ability to call us when there’s a baby-sitter at home and he has a question. Guidelines and rules were set in place when he first got it but beyond that, he felt safer knowing he could reach us.
There were meeting places we discussed when we arrived someplace new in case we ever did get separated. We explained who to trust and who not to. We worked on our boys looking out for one another.
But my son was still not back to himself. And one day he told me the reason he wasn’t was because he had been lost. Because he had been the one child in our family who was lost. It didn’t matter that it was a few minutes and we were back together — what mattered was that he felt lost.
So I told my husband, we needed to change the narrative. We needed him to know he wasn’t lost — but that he was found.
I sat down one night with my husband and suggested we save up and take the kids back to Disney. You can probably all imagine his face. He doesn’t like to spend a lot of money. Disney’s price tag is the exact opposite of a relaxing vacation for him. The thought of taking time from work and stashing away another lump sum to go back to the place that we had just had a terrible experience at, was not high on his list.
So I went into my dissertation that I often do when it comes to our kids and I’ve given significant thought to their needs based on my research and my experience in the healthy growth and development of kids. I went on and on but in the end, we both knew, my mind was set and we needed to do this. We were going. And we needed to go soon.
Of course, it would have been cheaper and more convenient if this happened locally. My son has no idea the cost endured to change this narrative. But in my mind, there was no question. We needed to put other things on hold, save up, and take him back.
So we did. But it wasn’t without obstacles.
We had a major home disaster happen just a couple of months before we were leaving, which took a significant amount of money to fix. Living our life with a financial plan, neither a basement renovation nor a repeat trip to Disney were part of that plan. It was a tough pill to swallow.
And then just a few weeks before, our house came down with COVID. My four year old being the last to test positive before we left, completed his last day of isolating the day before our flight took off. Talk about a close call.
But finally, we were off. And our travel back this time was seamless. Somehow the universe knew we needed a break, we needed rest, and we needed this to go well.
I’ll never forget my son’s face when I told him we were taking him back to repeat our trip, to show him he was safe, and remind him we found him. Without knowing the expense involved, still, he knew it was a big deal. He knew he had been heard and that him not only being safe wasn’t enough, we needed him to feel safe.
When we landed we took the day that followed to spend as a family at the resort pool. We started the trip, not at Disney World, but as a family. We reviewed our plans and made sure everyone had a good night of rest.
And then we woke up and headed back to Animal Kingdom.
What I will also never forget about this process was my son’s hand squeezing mine when we got there. He had a tight grip and wasn’t going to let go. But neither was I. We let him steer the course for most of the day starting with a few of his favorite rides before heading back to that infamous spot.
It’s amazing how when you are a parent and you are separated from your kid, that period of separation can feel like eternity. That distance between you, a world’s apart.
But in actuality, when we went back, the spot between the restroom where I came out of and realized my son was not with my husband, and the actual spot we found him were not far at all. It was probably seconds before I reached him, running as fast as I could. But for him, I’ll never know how long he waited. I’ll never know when he realized and for how many minutes we were in the restroom — while he was scared. I knew we needed to do this for him.
Heading over to that spot, we let him pick a snack we would all share together, filling our bellies before we brought him over to where he was found.
Walking over, standing there were I found him, I held him close. We took a photo together of me hugging him. But as you can imagine, he’s not particularly happy in that photo. But there was relief on his face. It was the memory of how we found him. Shortly after, we took another photo, one with the five of us together — standing as a team. When we finished, sitting across from us was a souvenir penny machine. We decided it would be a symbolic way to end our visit, a token to take home and remember the day we went back and healed as a family.
Sliding the dollar bill in for one penny, I watched my boys’ faces as three came out — one for each of them. There was a sense of magic in that moment, in their eyes, that those three pennies coming out together must have meant something. Telling them, the three of them could not be separated.
From that point on, the magic never left us the rest of the trip.
We spent the day at Animal Kingdom, taking our time, the five of us enjoying each ride, meeting characters, and experiencing the park in a very different way.
We woke up the following day and headed to Magic Kingdom with a very different skip in our step. Our kids lasted from 9am to after 10pm.
The day ended with my boys riding their favorite roller coaster over and over again with no line as everyone else in the park sat to watch fireworks. We had learned on our last trip that you can see the fireworks from that rollercoaster just as well, perhaps even better, and they didn’t want to miss a minute of the excitement. They had their energy back — all of them. My son was himself again. I even felt my marriage strengthen, knowing we had worked together to bring back a sense of security to our family.
It was a fairytale ending.
Our Christmas card this year was not a professional photo or even a series of photos from the year. Our photo was the five of us standing in front of that castle with all of our hands in doing a team cheer. We had accomplished changing the narrative of our time in Disney with our four year old. Capturing his face when he was on my husband’s shoulders coming off his last ride, he was the most joyful child I have ever seen at Disney. It was one for the ads. He had to have been exhausted walking that park from 9am to 10pm. But he was beaming. He had a natural high of feeling loved and supported, safe and found.
I share this story as a way to support parents in their guilt over mistakes. We all make mistakes. But if we look hard enough, there are often opportunities to change the narrative of those mistakes. Whether it’s decades later in how we approach our grandchildren or months later in how we approach a repeat trip to an amusement park, we often can change the narrative.
This is not medical advice about the way to handle your child’s response when something like this happens but it is what worked for our family. It’s a representation of how my family dealt with this experience and refused to let our mistakes define our future. We refused to let our son feel like the lost child, but instead the one that was found. I no longer hold onto the guilt of that day and my quick response to put on his poncho and run towards the bathroom shouting a pronoun to my husband.
I never intended this story to be part of my son’s childhood. But we told a new one. We helped him and our family heal and that’s the story we focus on.
Months have passed and my son no longer clings to me or his watch when we head out the door. He no longer refers to “being lost.” Our conversations about Disney are filled with far more positive memories than “the time I was lost.” He looks forward to a time he can go back and ride the rides he wasn’t tall enough for, and a time he can include his little brother in some of the rides he was able to get on.
I have seen a change in my son since our trip back. He’s far more eager to try new experiences and go to new places.
He wasn’t lost, he was found.
As many parents prepare for travel in the coming week, I wanted to offer resources and a list of tips for how my husband and I have brainstormed to prevent this from ever happening to our family again. I hope it might be helpful for you and I wish you all safe travels.
Tips:
- Dress children in matching and bright colored coloring. It is far easier to search for one color and to see bright neon clothing in a crowd. If I ever get a poncho for my kids again, it won’t be the same standard blue poncho everyone else has. They will have bright colors with patterns that stand out. During evening activities, glow sticks also work great!
- Handoffs should be done using two factor verification. My husband and I now use two methods of verifying who has which kids when we handoff. I make sure I make eye contact and say, “I have two,” while holding up two fingers. I then let him know he has “one” and hold up one finger. It might seem a little silly but I don’t use their names or pronouns because those got me into trouble once. I now use simple terms with a hand gesture so that it’s very clear.
- I hold my kids hands when we go in opposite directions. I generally hold my children’s hands when I’m with them in public but now I won’t divide our family going in opposite directions without grabbing their hands. If I don’t have a hand free, I make them grab my arm or shirt.
- My kids have Gizmo watches when we head to busy public places. This is not a necessity by any means but my husband and I did make the decision to get our kids watches where they can call us and we can track where they are. It is has been helpful everywhere from amusement parks to when they visit friends or we head out and leave them with a baby-sitter.
- Have ID bracelets on children. When we traveled to Disney, I initially had my kids wearing ID bracelets. For some reason, that day I felt like maybe they weren’t necessary, maybe I was being “over the top,” and I left them in our room. I no longer feel that way. If something happens to my child, I want a responsible adult to have access to my phone number in the event my child goes missing and they need to contact me right away. Having my phone number available allows them to contact me if I’m in a restroom and alert me they have my child before my child worries any longer he won’t be able to find me.
- Discuss safety as a family. My older two children know our phone numbers. We also discuss what to do if they encounter a stranger or get separated from us. It’s a few minutes to review before we head to a public place, but it is necessary and can usually be done in the car on our way.
Here’s some more resources for other ideas to keep your kids safe!
https://www.northshore.org/healthy-you/safety-tips-for-kids-in-summer-crowds/ I love her tips!
https://www.today.com/parents/6-tips-keeping-kids-safe-crowded-places-t100357 I love the tip of giving your children ticket stubs, and printing out those tickets so your kids know where their seats are! And I appreciate the sentiment of following advice from past generations.
And as always, if your child seems to be having a difficult time after an experience, reach out to your pediatrician for resources. It can help.
And finally, I couldn’t end this post without acknowledging the two people who helped us find our son, the two people who kept him safe that day until we got there.
I am forever grateful to that park employee and that woman who led us to our son. Whoever you are, I wish I had gotten your names and could properly thank you.
It takes a village and I will forever think of the two of you as part of it.
With sincere gratitude,
