Yep, that's me--Miss WorryWart. I honestly think one of the hormones that kicks in as soon as you see that little positive sign on the pregnancy test is the worry hormone. I spent the first part of my pregnancy worrying that something would happen and I would lose the baby (until my nurse at school told me that I could possibly make my body do so out of worry and stress--then I worried that I was worrying too much). Then I focused my worry on things that can happen to a child in the womb--organs not forming right, too many QT cokes causing large amounts of caffeine to come through the umbilical cord, a potential fall onto my whale-like stomach. I would panic if I felt a lack of fetal movement (which lead to two different trips to the hospital for non-stress tests). During those moments of worry, I would think, "I can't wait until Isaac is here and I can see him, then I won't worry so much.
YEAH RIGHT! Now that he is here, I worry about a whole new variety of things. One of my biggest worries is SIDS. I often wake-up about two to three times a night to check and see if Isaac is still breathing. I make sure that there is always a fan going in his room to prevent the temperature from being above 68 degrees. Although I give Isaac his loved giraffe blanket to fall asleep with, I always sneak into his room once he is asleep and pry it off his face.
Yesterday as he and I were driving to physical therapy, I had this sudden worry about what I would do if a sudden natural disaster happened while we were away from the house. I panicked because I only had about three feedings of formula in his diaper bag and only one bottle of water. As I was thinking that I should probably start traveling with a full container of liquid formula and a package of diapers in the trunk of my car in case war breaks out here in Grapevine and I am unable to return home, I realized that I had turned into Miss Worrywart and needed to calm down. During my teaching career, I dealt with a variety of parents, some who worried and obsessed over the silliest details of their child. I don't want to be that parent who carries her child into kindergarten everyday, fearful that he might get trampled by the bigger kids (it happens, trust me!) . I don't want Isaac to be the only child on the soccer field, covered in bubblewrap because his mother fears a broken bone. God gave me a boy--someone who will likely nosedive off my couch, contemplate how to climb up on a roof, and stand on the seat of his bike while racing down the street.
This morning I read Isaac his board book about the story of Abraham and Isaac from the Bible. This story is such an example of a parent who did not worry about his child, yet trusted that God had things under control. Today I am working on my worrying and obsessing over potential dangers. I have cancelled my order for the plastic bubble to put Isaac in and might even let him play with the remote control without thinking that all of his drool could cause an electric shock....