Lately I’ve been especially paranoid that something bad is going to happen to my daughter. Admittedly, I struggle with anxiety, but this is beyond it’s usual scope. I feel a tad bit paranoid. I didn’t want to say anything to anyone about it, because some even more paranoid part of me felt like giving it voice would make it happen. Finally, I mentioned it to my dear colleague one day, because it was really weighing on me and she has kids ranging in ages from pre-teen to adult, so I thought she might have some sound advice. Don’t parents usually go through this more during infancy (you know the scenario- checking the sleeping baby five times to make sure they’re breathing)? My daughter is inching in on three years old. She’s a tot, but she’s very capable; sturdy even. My colleague is such a lovely, thoughtful person who is a also an incredibly good listener (I suppose those three things go hand-in-hand, right?). She listened to me share what has been going on for me, paused, and said exactly what I needed to hear: “I bet you never thought you could love a child so much, huh?” That was it exactly. I love her so much, it scares me. And honestly, you really can’t ever know how big and overwhelming and terrifying that love is until you are a parent. It’s hard to wrap your heart around. I hate to admit this, but maybe I didn’t fully see that coming as a non-gestational, non-biological parent, even though of course I hoped it would.
I love her so big and I’m breathing through this experience called parenthood.