Through every little bump, every kick, each craving and nauseating bite of food, I worried. Would the baby be born healthy; have all its fingers and toes, be able to see and hear and play like thousands of other little ones?
After each successful birth, I alternated between exhilaration and overwhelming fear for the days to come. Did I have enough breast milk to nourish my baby? Was he or she sleeping enough? Would I drop them?
Were they fulling all of the expected milestones on time?
Later, I worried about school–was it wrong that I homeschooled or was it the better choice? Were they making friends, or behaving like social morons? I worried about their health, self-esteem, and whether I was giving them a solid foundation of Faith at home.
As they grew, I worried about the friends they made, their grades, the dates they had and the cars they drove. It seemed as if they grew in proportion to my worrying.
With the last one out of high school, in college and officially an adult, surely I can stop worrying, I once thought. Yeah right.
Oh, I was so wrong. When you sign up and agree to partner with God in becoming a parent, that job continues until we die and maybe even into eternity, I don’t know. But it is an extraordinarily long time!
With each of them, I still worry about their happiness, whether they are eating, if they are making friends, staying healthy, and keeping faith at the forefront of their lives. If that weren’t enough, I worry about their children and it is enough to drive me right over the edge.
How did my parents do it? They also had five. It didn’t seem as if they worried at all? Or did they? I will never know as they aren’t here to ask, but I often wonder if those quick phone calls my dad made to tell me a joke was his way of checking up on me. When I find myself sending little emails, texts or FB messages to my kids–that is exactly what I am doing, so I am guessing that Dad was the one picked to do the wellness checks.
I have read all of the scripture passages telling us not to worry and that we need faith instead. I try to have faith, but I just can’t help worrying. I guess this is my way of telling my kids that I will continue to check up on you, if you don’t check in with me on a regular basis.