We have a four-year-old daughter and a newborn boy. I was folding clothes when I heard our toddler screaming, “Dad, help!”. It made me drop everything and bolted outside without thinking. What I saw made my blood run cold – our newborn was in his stroller, rolling down our sloped driveway, straight toward the street.
My husband was standing nearby, casually chatting with our next-door neighbor, completely unaware of what was happening. His back was turned, laughing at something mundane. But the stroller was picking up speed, and a car was coming down the road.
Our daughter-just four years old-had seen it all. She was already running barefoot, her little legs moving as fast as they could. She was clumsy but determined, shouting and panicking as she chased after her baby brother.
Just seconds before the stroller could reach the edge of the road, she grabbed one of the wheels and threw her tiny body in front of it. The force tipped the stroller to the side, sending it crashing onto the sidewalk. Our newborn started crying loudly-but he was okay. Alive. Unharmed.
The car passed by without even slowing down. I ran to both of them, heart racing, tears already blurring my vision. I held them, shaking, while trying to process what had just happened. My husband turned around at that moment, finally noticing. His face went pale as he realized what he had missed. “I just looked away for a second,” he stammered. “I didn’t see it…”
And I lost it. I was furious. Furious that I trusted him to keep an eye on the kids. Furious that I had to witness our four-year-old be the one to protect her baby brother. We argued-right there on the driveway.
I told him how careless he was. How I wasn’t sure I could trust him with them again. And honestly… I still don’t know if I can.
It’s been days now, but I can’t forget it. I can’t stop seeing that stroller rolling down. I can’t stop hearing her scream. I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened if she hadn’t been there—or if she hadn’t reacted in time.
I love my husband, but something inside me shifted that day. I know he didn’t mean for it to happen, but how do you just forget something like that? Has anyone else ever gone through something like this? Am I wrong for still being angry?
Should I try harder to forgive, or is this kind of mistake too big to move past? I honestly don’t know what to do.
We’re sorry for what happened, but let’s get more practical and specific to your story, focused on what you can do right now and going forward to cope and heal from this exact situation.
You’re not alone in feeling torn and unsure.
Set a clear safety rule: no leaving the kids unattended outside.
Example: Agree with your husband that one adult must be with the children anytime they’re outside, no exceptions. Write it down and remind each other regularly.
Create a stroller safety check routine.
Example: Always lock the stroller wheels before stepping away, no matter how brief. Practice this together until it becomes automatic.
Schedule a calm talk with your husband.
Example: Pick a quiet time to sit down and discuss what happened without blame, share your feelings and listen to his. Use a timer to keep it focused (e.g., 10 minutes each).
Agree on how to handle future mistakes.
Example: Decide together on a “repair” action when one of you slips up, like an apology and extra care for the next hour/day to rebuild trust quickly.
Install a safety gate or barrier at the driveway entrance.
Example: Put up a child-proof gate or a removable barrier at the top of your sloped driveway to physically prevent strollers or kids from rolling down.
Allow yourself to grieve the fear and shock.
Example: Accept that you experienced a trauma. Cry if you need to, write about your feelings, or talk it out. Grieving helps start healing.
Talk about the incident with a supportive listener.
Example: Whether it’s a close friend, family member, or therapist, sharing your story can lessen the emotional weight.
Practice patience with your daughter’s feelings, too.
Example: She witnessed something scary; giving her extra hugs and reassurance supports both of you.