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| Notice the bruise on his forehead from hitting it on shelf that he was trying to crawl under at school... |
Then I had my beautiful, perfect little boy, with all his fingers and toes and other appropriate appendages. But the what-ifs didn't stop there. What if he dies of SIDS? What if I wake up and find him laying, cold in his crib? It's horrible and morbid, but I've thought it many times. The first night that Grayson slept at home, I woke up in the middle of the night to check on him because he hadn't been up in a few hours. For a split second I thought he looked purple. I freaked out and reached out to him, only to find him warm and snuggly. Apparently it was just the lighting playing tricks on my eyes. I cried while I waited for my pulse to slow down.
Each new stage brings with it new fears. What if he chokes on his food? What if he falls and hits his head? Like...hits his head hard? What if we take him to a check-up and think he's perfectly fine only to discover he has some terrible condition? What if he gets cancer? What if he gets bit by a poisonous spider?
A couple weeks ago I was reading a lot about babies being accidentally left in hot cars and dying while their parents are at work. When I first read about it, I thought it was ridiculous. Who could forget their child is in the car? Then I read more stories of people who did this and how it really was an accident, and I suddenly realized...this could happen to me. Granted, I don't want to believe that I could forget Grayson, but I realized how given the right circumstances, it could happen. The very thought of that terrified me. I had nightmares. I would think about it and feel sick to my stomach. I would get nervous walking out to the car, thinking about how awful it would be to look in the back seat and see my baby in his carseat...forgotten all day long.
Now that Grayson is more mobile, accidents are inevitable. He has gotten a few scratches, bumps, and bruises from taking a tumble while pulling up or crawling around. The sound of him crying in pain is the worst sound! I scoop him up and snuggle him and kiss him and try to calmly soothe him, but my heart is breaking as he cries. He fell backwards at a friend's house and hit his head on a metal vent on the floor. I didn't even see it coming because he tumbles often and never gets hurt. I didn't even think about the vent on the floor. The sound of his head hitting metal stuck with me for days. He was fine. It didn't even leave a mark. But I felt guilty, and that nagging feeling made me realize how terrible it would be if something really, really bad happened on my watch. I would be a mess!
Through all of this, I've come to two realizations.
One -- these are not irrational fears. They are completely rational. It would be irrational for me to be afraid that dinosaurs will eat my baby, but being afraid that he might get hurt or sick, or that I might make a mistake that has awful consequences is actually not far-fetched. Life is fragile and we never know what might happen next. People get sick. Accidents happen. And babies are going to bonk their heads.
Two -- while the fears are perfectly rational, I cannot and should not let them consume me. In fact, God commands multiple times in the Bible, that I do not let fear reign in my life. Because I really am living in a promise. Not a promise that life will be perfect. Not a promise that terrible things won't happen (on the contrary, Jesus tells us that they WILL happen!). I live in a promise that God is in control. That He will work things together for our good. And even when terrible things happen, God promises eternal life for those who love and serve him. He promises comfort and joy, despite the fallen circumstances of the world. There is no guarantee that my fears will not come true. But I can rest in the security of the guarantee that Jesus is with us. He is our Lord and salvation. Whom shall we fear? (Psalm 27:1)
And with that in mind, I'm able to push aside my fears (most of the time!) and focus on the wonderful reality of the present. Not the "what-ifs." Not the bridges that God may never intend for me to cross. But on the happy, healthy, little boy who stands up in his crib and smiles at me when I come get him in the morning. And I focus on thanking God for His blessings and showering my sweet baby with love.
Do you ever struggle with fear in parenting, or other areas of life? What has God shown you about fear in your life?
~Christy~
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