Facing up to the fears

So I never knew I was such a worrier until I became a mother.  Life is just a whole new experience now that there's this piece of my heart that exists outside my body...

 I mean, can you blame me?  I would do anything for this little face.

I made a conscious effort when I was pregnant not to stress out or worry about things.  I tried not to ask a bazillion nit-picky questions of my OB, trusting that she would tell me if there was anything I needed to worry about.  I did, however, stress out about Lilly's delivery.  Not the pain factor (I tried not to think about that too much), but the safety factor of getting this child out of my body.  Specifically, whether or not Lilly might need help when she was born.  I've had a bit of experience (more than I'd like!) with neonatal resuscitation and being the doctor at "the stand" (the warmer in the delivery room where the baby goes if they need help).  I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that conceivably, my baby could be on the stand, and I would still be stuck, immobile, in the delivery bed while others assisted my little girl.  For some reason, this was a huge fear in my mind.  And the possibility that she might get 100% oxygen was causing me great anxiety (new research is coming out about the toxicity of oxygen but not all hospitals, particularly non-academic hospitals, have yet adopted the new recommendations regarding oxygen use in neonatal resuscitation).  Anyway.  I remember talking to my best friend Abbie about this.  She had a baby 5 months before Lilly was born and I remember her saying something along the lines of, Laura, the worrying has just begun.  She was so right.  I was focused on the process of getting the baby out, and what complications could arise (thank you very much, Pediatric Residency, for exposing me to all sorts of the worse case scenarios!) and that was only the beginning to a lifetime of concern for my girl.

 Just waking up.

Now that I've been a mother for 10 weeks (I can not believe she is 10 weeks old today!), I am beginning to understand a little of what it means to be a mommy.  This adorable child is completely dependent on me for everything.  And I feel this huge sense of responsibility to be the best mother I can be for her, to protect her, to teach her, and to make her feel secure.  Every day there's something new to worry about.  Is her head getting flat?  Is she getting enough sleep?  Is she eating enough?  Is she eating too much?  Is she getting overheated if I take her outside in the lovely 104 degree Texas weather?  If I take her out of the house, will she get sick?  And then there are the things that she herself does, faces and movements and noises... are they normal?  Greg often looks at me and asks, "is that normal?"  And my education and experience tells me our daughter is nothing but perfectly healthy and developmentally on track.  I've started asking myself, "What would you say to a parent in your clinic who asks about this?"  And this is the answer I give Greg, and try to listen to myself (ie, it's nothing to be concerned about).  But like I told him the other night, I have a pediatrician in my head (which is an odd mental image, I realize).  So there's always a bit of second-guessing... 

I am in love with her little toes.

One thing that keeps cropping up in the recesses of my mind is infantile spasms.  I have no idea why, but it's like this lurking fear.  A baby develops normally for a few months and then starts having episodes that are similar to seizures.  It does not have the best prognosis.  I think maybe it's because a last fall I had a patient when I was the senior resident of the Neurology service that was diagnosed with Infantile Spasms.  I spent a lot of time with this young mom (she was in her young twenties, had a two year old little girl and this precious 6 month old that we diagnosed) and was just struck by her devotion to her children.  She was not the typical mother I come in contact with at work.  I was 9 weeks pregnant at the time I met her, and I don't think I will forget her.

Just speaking those fears aloud makes them that much smaller. 

My gorgeous girl wakes up slowly (like her daddy) but so happy... always ready with a smile when she sees my face!

I am sure all of the mothers are there are smiling knowingly... most of us go through some variety of this until we realize that worrying does nothing but make us a bit nutty and stress out our children.  Sometimes the more you know, the worse it is, I think.  But in the past week, I feel like God is showing me two things.  First, just I am learning even more what His heart towards us as His children is like.  If I love Lilly so much I'd rather die than have her suffer, how much more does God love us?  Matthew 7:9-11.  And secondly, He loves Lilly that much too.  Even more than I do.  And I can trust Him with her.  After all, He gave her to Greg and me.  So I don't have to worry about her.  And I feel like this past week I have started to worry less, and enjoy her even more.  I know those are two pretty basic truths about living the Christian life, and I might have previously said I had fully understood and embraced both of those principles.  But as I get older and am faced with new experiences (motherhood!), I discover new ways I need to surrender.  So now I am daily choosing to trust Him with our precious Lilly and choosing not to worry.

 Isn't she pretty?  :-)

I love being a mom.