Paranoia, Paranoia

Being a mom has been a very smooth transition for me. I have a mellow baby, a great husband, and wonderful parents who have helped at every step. Heck, my mom still brings coffee and breakfast over every morning-something she started the day I brought Ryleigh home. I didn't have an ounce of the baby blues, and have really felt great over these last four months. BUT, one thing I wasn't able to escape  is the paranoia. Paranoia that something bad will happen to this little family that I love so much. Ryleigh was about three hours old when it set in. I remember settling in recovery for the night. John was asleep on the couch in the hospital room, and I was alone with Ryleigh for the first time since she was born. I looked at her and the first though through my head was "what have I done?" Before I had kids, I had no real fears. Sure when I was home alone, my mind would wonder and I'd double check the alarm system, or when John would travel, I'd have a little knot in my stomach until I got the phone call that he landed safely, but that was really it. Sitting in that hospital room, I remember the feeling of panic that I was now in charge of something that was more precious to me than anything-and what would I do if anything ever happened to that? Then, the door to my room opened and the nurses came in for a routine blood draw and check in, and those feelings were soon forgotten….for the moment anyway….

Now, we are almost four months in. I am a normal, rational person during the day, but at night time, those thoughts come flooding in. I blame all the sick stuff I used to read and watch on TV (did I mention I have not one, but two volumes of The Encyclopedia of Serial Killers in my house and that I've read every page of them? I used to be very intrigued by that and wanted to be a forensic psychologist, hence the gory book collection). Combine that with the fact that my dad works with families with terminal kids, and I hear many of those stories, and you get a recipe for a crazy person. Case in point-Ry still sleeps in our room. We kept her in with us until she habitually slept through the night. She's more than ready to be in her own room, and every day I say that tonight will be the night she goes in her crib, but then night time comes, and I worry. What if there's an earthquake, or fire, or break in, or Zombie attack (haha) and she's far away from us?! Yeah, this kid won't be getting any siblings because she'll be in her room until she's 18!

My mom and aunt told me what I already know. This feeling of constant worry about your kid will never end. I know that it will just get worse as she grows and develops independence and starts spending more and more time away from me. It makes me sorry for the crazy things I put my mother through-like sky diving for my 18th bday, scuba diving at night, scuba diving with SHARKS…God I give myself the chills over the things I did when I was "young and adventurous". BUT, as a rational person, I know that we must LIVE life and not hide from it. So, that's what we'll do. We will go on adventures, travel the world, show our girl all the great things and places we've seen over the years, take her camping and rock climbing and rafting, and at the end of the day, we will tuck her into bed with us! Hehehe


This quote is everywhere, but really, truer words have never been spoken: "Making the decision to have a child-it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body"-Elizabeth Stone