(Sorry if this seems a little disjointed. It was written with a 19 month old hanging off my neck most of the time.)
It all started with this in January 2004:
Oh wow, am I really pregnant? Will it stick? Will I miscarry? Worry, worry, worry.
And then she grew, and we got to see the proof of her existence beyond two lines.
Is the baby normal? Are there any problems? Are you sure we can tell people it’s a girl? Worry, worry, worry.
And then we reached the end of the pregnancy, and thoughts shifted slightly.
Why is she still breech? Is something wrong? Are we really ready to be parents? Worry, worry, worry.
She was born via c-section (still breech), and she was beautiful and perfect. Well, perfect except for her stubborn personality.
Why won’t she nurse? What am I doing wrong? Does she not like me? Worry, worry, worry.
But the worst was over, right? From this point on, I could count those 10 fingers and 10 toes each night, and we found a combination of solutions to feed her, so there was no reason to worry. Yeah, right. How naive I was.
That was just the practice worry. It served as the warm-up for the real thing that takes hold when you finally have your child in your arms. Because now the dangers are 100-fold and there are a million signs that could point to developmental problems.
Now everything could lead to certain death, or at least put her behind her peers in some small developmental milestone. Is TV evil or OK? Totally organic foods or not? When she wasn’t sitting up at six months old, I wondered what the problem was. Did I not provide enough tummy time to strengthen her muscles? (Truth is, she had a monster head to balance on that tiny neck.)
I think worrying is the natural state of motherhood. It is simply our nature to constantly worry about our offspring, constantly driving ourselves crazy second guessing our decisions and spending hours to make a simple decision on how much clothing is too much for a 40 degree day, but not so little as to freeze our child.
No one warned me about the level of worry I would be taking on by becoming a mother. Now that there is no way out (and for the record I wouldn’t want a way out even if it was offered), I can see down the path to the future, and I see only more worry ahead of me.
Oh sure, some worries will ease with time. Since she became a toddler, I’ve finally stopped worrying that Cordy will stop breathing in the middle of the night. When she’s older I’m sure I will worry less about her falling down the stairs.
But for every worry that eases, another will appear in the night to take its place. Oh sure, I won’t worry that she’ll fall down the stairs, but instead I’ll worry about her falling off of the tall climbing equipment on the playground. When she’s secure riding her bike, I will worry less until she wants to get her driver’s permit.
I’m sure some people think they don’t worry about their children much. I even feel that way sometimes. But I think the reality is that we’ve internalized that worry so well that we don’t even notice it at times. When Cordy was sick this weekend, the worry I had was not obvious until I later realized just how tense and sore my shoulders were. I was worried about her, but it only showed itself in the tension in my muscles.
I probably know why we exert so much mental effort worrying about our children. Millions of years ago, our natural state of worrying protected our young from predators and other dangers. All that worry developed into the sharp maternal instincts we have today. We worry, but with that worry we can go from calm to crisis mode in 0.67 seconds flat.
Once, we were at a mall play area when Cordy was only crawling and Cordy was attacked by an older kid. I had seen him taking an interest in her, and the worry set in right away. I knew he was too old to play with her, I knew he didn’t seem like a nice kid. When he kicked her and scratched her, suddenly that worry was confirmed and the mommy instinct took over. My rational side resisted the urge to wring the kid’s neck, but I felt that urge as I quickly flung myself between them. And even though I didn’t pummel the kid, much like a mama gorilla, I scooped up my child and moved her away from this source of danger.
When will the worrying end? Seeing that my mom still worries about me, I think the answer is it never will. When you have a child, a small piece of your heart is in that child, and that missing piece creates an invisible link between us. And with that link comes worry.
So when you see me lost in thought, just know I’m probably worrying about what crisis I will need to protect Cordelia from next. Because that’s what I do.
Will she fall off the bench? Will she become a brilliant yet tortured musician? Will she develop arthritis or carpal-tunnel? Worry, worry, worry.
Okay, you killed me with that opening photo. I thought for sure you were going to say you were pregnant with #2!
Worry worry worry! You are so right. Some days its better than others, no?
Worry is my middle name! It is true, but we worry because we are utterly and completely in love with our child.
Just a part of motherhood I guess 🙂
Carpal tunnel. Oh, the worry.
Will he fall and smack his head off the Exersaucer? Apparently.
No, no one ever told me of this worry stuff either. They told me about the hard stuff. But… not this overwhelming worry. A constant state of on your toes. Good thing I was a ballerina, eh?
I think you are very right, we internalize so much worry and that is where we end up in trouble. When I saw that positive p test, I got all willy-nilly. Even when I don’t have a uterus, just the sight of one of those sends me into spasms
Jerri Ann
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http://www.acracknlife.squarespace
Oh Christina, I know you you feel! After speding my entire high-risk pregnancy worrying, I thought it would be a breeze when Squeaks was born…but into only grew 100 fold.
Last night I worried that she had suffocated in her bed (on what, I don’t know, since there is nothing in there!) because she hadn’t gotten up for a feeding before 2 am! The Hubby thought I was nuts! I know that this will never end, but it’s nice to know that this is normal!
I had no idea about all the worry either. I used to think that my mom was too much of a worrier and now I know she wasn’t really. I am 20 times worse than she was.
Mortality (my own and hers) was never an issue until I had a kid. I can’t imagine not worrying – I don’t know how people let their kids go out all night for prom, or let alone on a freaking date? ACK.
I’m going to try to enjoy these fleeting “safe” days as much as a can – where I can at least keep my eye on her.
Personally, I’ve always been a worrier but now that I’m a mom I worry even more. It takes up way too much of my time.
I don’t worry about the little bumps as much as I used to but my mortality looms large over my head daily.
I totally agree to be a mom means to worry!!!
I try to be all casual….look like hey man it is ok she is trying to climb that tree….inside I am rushing over there and putting her in a plastic bubble…
I felt deja vu reading your post. I found out I was pregnant with my son in January of 2004 also. I went through the worry of miscarriage, the worry of birth defects, and I think I worried myself into bed rest, because I developed pre-eclampsia.
But by the grace of God, Dawson was born 09/16/2004 and healthy as could be.
It’s been a wonderful ride so far.
Thank you for writing such a wonderful entry.
I TOTALLY relate to you on this topic. I’ve always been a worrier and having a baby just brings it all out. First it was SIDS, now I worry constantly about choking. I don’t think it will ever really end. But I guess the worry comes with being in love. There’s nothing we can do about it. But worry some more. 🙂
It never ends. And I know that for me, with a 14 year old, I’m on the cusp of a whole new load of worries. You are obviously doing a great job — worry…but let her go and do — watch her soar…be there to catch her. You’ve got it right.
You’ve written this so well. Some days the worry seems almost overpowering. It really is a comfort to know that all you other Mummies are the same and I’m not quite as crazy as I thought…
Carpal tunnel?! *LOL* you are so funny!
A few nights ago, I went to my mom’s for dinner. It was pouring rain. I was getting ready to leave and she said ” Gee, I really don’t think you should drive in this rain. What if you get into an accident?” Umm…I am almost 40….I think it’s safe to say, Christina, you and the rest of us will probably worry about our kids for the.rest.of.our.lives.
Welcome to motherhood. Where the worrying never stops. But as a parent whose worries have actually become reality, I’ll just pass on this gentle reminder. Try not to waste too much time worrying about whatever. Just enjoy the now.
Mom = worry for eternity
End of discussion.
My father also feels the need to worry. He still asks me if I have changed the oil recently. I too, am almost 40. Never stops.
Im 30 and my parents still waste a lot of energy worrying about me.
I lay awake at night worrying about things that will never happen to my children. It’s called being a mom
You put down in words exactly what it is like to have a new baby. My baby turns 1 on Monday and the amount of worry and the strange things you worry about is so stressful!!!!
Great post. It’s one of the hardest parts of being a mom as far as I’m concerned. I don’t think the worry will ever go away but I guess it keeps us on our toes.
Wow. After reading all of the comments, I’m convinced someone could make a TON of money helping mommies to relax.
I’m right there with you. I think the worry raises exponentially each child you add to the family. Since I got the double line wake up call from the people at EPT, I have started clenching my teeth at night. I am worrying in my sleep.
You seem to be doing an amazing job with your stubborn monkey. Keep up the good work.
That was beautiful. I knew that I would become a worrier, but I didn’t know how very very deeply I would feel it.
And how it would be really okay, to be a worrier.
What a great post! I too am a chronic worrier now that I am a mom. I think it just gets worse with each passing day.
The first symptom of pregnancy for me was not nausea – it was the fear of squirrels. As in, “That squirrel is looking at me oddly. What if it has rabies? What if it bites me and it hurts the baby?” And that was only the beginning… sigh.