Sometimes it creeps up.
Sometimes it smacks me in the face.
This feeling of knowing that I am not in control. I can’t control the temperature, the pain, the sickness that is making my little one so miserable. As I sit and stare at her praying with each breath that she sleeps peacefully and wakes feeling better, I cringe at the thoughts that fill my mind.
This fear. This awful fear.
It is as if the grief has left me wounded. My life has left me riddled with fear. Every bug bite might be cancer. Every bruise an awful disease. Every fever a dangerous infection. Every time I have a little one who has anything remotely different than normal I am scared to death. How I wish I could be that mom who just takes her child to the doctor for medicine when needed, but I won’t lie, I often take them for my own peace of mind. So I know that I am not wrong. So I know haven’t missed something.
I grew up in a family where my mom kissed our heads to feel for fever often. Now that I am the mom, I do the same.
Most of the time I am just a happy mom. Loving every moment with my kids, but when the fear creeps in, it is beyond my control. The thoughts that fill my mind of the worst case scenarios are more than the sensible side of me can relieve. So I deal with the fear, I search the internet, I check and double check and triple check on my kids. I do what I need to do to know they are okay. I look for the moment when all is right with the world and the sickness has faded.
I pray.
I know why I am this way. Life has brought me here. I will have fear, but fear will not control me. Each time one of my kids runs a fever, has a belly ache or a headache I am sure I will over analyze. I will have fear, but fear will not control me.
