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Crying Over Stuffed Duck
Scotty Schrier, Riverview, FL
From Dads Behaving DADLY: 67 Truths, Tears, and Triumphs of Modern Fatherhood Copyright © 2014 Motivational Press. Reprinted with permission. By Hogan Hilling and Al Watts
About five years ago, I found out I was going to be a daddy. My wife surprised me in the airport while picking me up from a business trip. She gave me a card with a picture of a little baby on the front and a pregnancy test inside. I knew before I even got it opened. Raw emotion surged through me as a dam burst somewhere inside my heart.
There I was, nearing midnight in a nearly empty airport sobbing while holding my wife tight, feeling a tidal wave of joy crash over me as a life-long dream was being realized. With a limitless future on the horizon, we wept silently in one another’s arms.
The next day reality hit. We had NO kid stuff. My wife and I had been together for almost fifteen years, so we had amassed quite a collection of non-kid stuff. So, like every soon-to-be parent, we went in search of some kid stuff to buy. Not knowing if it was going to be a boy or girl made it pretty hard. Then we found this stuffed duck. We took the duck home along with a book, and I began a nightly ritual of reading to “Peanut” in mommy’s tummy every night.
We were just getting into parental gear and starting to wrap our heads around the enormous task at hand when it happened. I had a public engagement that day and couldn’t go to her monthly pre-natal visit. It was a routine one, and she told me it was no big deal if I missed it. When I got a call from her, I thought it was a little early for the appointment to be over. I was not prepared for the following words:
“They can’t find the heartbeat.”
I’m a sane man. But not that day. I frantically called my office and told them I was out for the next couple of days and why. Then, I called my mom to tell her. When I called, my niece answered the phone. She asked what was wrong and I lost all control. I broke down and told her we lost the baby. She began crying which brought my mom to the phone. She asked what happened and I told her. Each time the words came out of my mouth, it made everything more concrete and final. We. Lost. The. Baby.
My world fell out from under me. We took one last night to read stories to Peanut and say good-bye. I hugged the duck and cried as I felt I was dying inside.
We kept trying and soon we had our first son. I was completely unable to get rid of Peanut’s stuffed duck, so I gave it to my son. It became one of his toys, and I was glad. Then we had a second boy, and the duck fit comfortably into the array of boy chaos around the house. Things were fine.
Then a Tornado hit Moore, Oklahoma.
A friend of mine in Moore, five states away from me, posted a Facebook event asking for teddy bear donations for the kids who lost everything in the tornado. I pledged my assistance and asked an awesome group of men from my church if they wanted to help out. The Courageous Dads group stepped up, and we put the call out to the rest of the church that we needed animals.
I told my oldest son about the animal drive and asked if he had anything he wanted to donate. He thoughtfully looked through his pile of toys and produced a cute stuffed doggy… and the duck. My gut told me to put the duck away and tell him to pick something else. But I realized something. The duck didn’t mean nearly as much to him as it did me. That’s when I decided it was time to let the little guy go. I choked up as I talked to my wife about it. She could see the pain in my eyes and asked if I really wanted to do this. I nodded quietly. Yeah, it felt right.
I took it to the church on the first day of our animal drive and lovingly placed it in the bin. The care I took as I nestled it into place was nothing short of reverence. The following weeks saw the bin being filled and re-filled and re-filled again. There were so many animals in the church lobby. It made my heart happy, and I knew I made the right choice.
On Sunday, Father’s Day, the entire congregation did a “Blessing of the Bears.” They had all of the animals lined up across the stage, on the altar, across the top of the piano… there were animals everywhere! When we walked in, I saw the duck. During the first song, they invited people to come up and take an animal to pray over if they wanted to.
Of course, I had to have the duck. I needed one last moment with it. Then, some other lady took it as I was reaching for it. Some nasty thoughts ran through my head as I took a couple of other animals back to our seats. My wife looked at me. “I thought for sure you were going to get the duck.”
“Yeah, I would have, but that old biddy over there got it as I was reaching for it.” I was mad. And I was mad at myself for being so mad. Instead of festering over it, I walked over to the lady and explained why I wanted the duck. She nodded and swapped animals with me. It may sound silly, but at the time, it was the single most important thing in the world to me.
As the service went on, I held the duck. I prayed. And I cried. Dear Lord, I cried. It hit me that the reason I needed the duck was because I wanted one last moment with Peanut.
I had put all of my joy, pain, longing, anger, and loss into this inanimate object. Deep down, I was afraid of letting the duck go. I was afraid of forgetting about Peanut. The only tangible thing I had was that duck. By trying to hold onto it, I believed I hadn’t really lost Peanut.
Letting the duck go, though, could allow me to actually say good-bye. I could finally let the wound close. I could finally begin to heal. The tears in that moment made me realize how truly devastated I was when we lost the baby. It made me see how I had suppressed the pain.
I thought I was “just the dad.” I didn’t feel it was fair for me to hurt as much as my wife. She was the one carrying the baby, after all. She felt the pain at the time and processed it. I didn’t. As a result, she was in a much healthier place than me. So, I held the little duck tight and prayed that whomever got the duck could feel the healing hand of God the way I just had.
When the service was over, we put the animals back in their place. Instead of setting it down with the reverence of a holy relic, I put a stuffed duck in the pile. Because that’s what it is. A duck. It wasn’t my lost child. No, Peanut was in my heart. And always will be. I love Peanut as much as I do my two sons. Maybe someday we’ll finally get to meet. Until then, I’m content with my memories of those few weeks as Peanut helped me figure out I was ready to be a dad.
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Scotty Schrier is a stay-at-home dad of two boys. When he’s not chasing the kids around, he’s writing. He started www.DadsWhoChangeDiapers.com to help fill a need that many dads feel; the need to know where a dad-accessible changing station is located. He has one collection of short fiction published on Amazon for the Kindle, and recently finished a new novel which should be published soon. He and his wife have been together for 20 years and now live in Tampa with their boys. You can find him on Twitter as @DiaperDads.
Hogan Hilling a nationally recognized and OPRAH approved author of 12 published books. Hilling has appeared on Oprah. He is the creator of the DADLY book series and the “#WeLoveDads” and “#WeLoveMoms” Campaigns, which he will launch in early 2018. He is also the owner of Dad Marketing https://dadmarketingconsulting.wordpress.com/, a first of its kind consultation firm on how to market to dads. He is also the founder of United We Parent, www.unitedweparent.com. Hilling is also the author of the DADLY book series and first of its kind books. The first book is about marketing to dads “DADLY Dollar$” and two coffee table books that feature dads and moms. “DADLY Dads: Parents of the 21st Century” and “Amazing Moms: Parents of the 21st Century.” Hilling is the father of three children and lives in southern California.
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Originally published in Dads Behaving DADLY: 67 Truths, Tears, and Triumphs of Modern Fatherhood Copyright © 2014 Motivational Press. Reprinted with permission.
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