What do you fear you could endure?

What is your biggest fear? There's an interesting question for someone who struggles with anxiety. My mind immediately jumps to Franklin D. Roosevelt's first inaugural address: 

"...let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself -- nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts..." 

It turns out, however, there is one thing I fear more than my own fear. A few summers ago I came face-to-face with my fear. I'd love to say I overcame it, but... 

This was nothing like meeting a tarantula, although my whole life I have been petrified by spiders. Literally, if confronted by one, even the itsy-bitsiest of arachnids can send me into heart-pounding, frozen in place, panic. Unlike my friend Lola, I'm not concerned about them laying eggs in my mouth, or accidentally eating them, or even being bitten. The entirety of them being just freaks me the hell out. 

Logically, I know they serve a greater good, so I do my best to live and let live. If a spider is in my space, I can break through my panic to capture it and set it "free." Sure, there'll be a tremendous amount of squealing and running in circles shouting "ewwwww," but I'm a mom. Mom's get shite done. 

Now, if you ask others what their biggest fears are, I'd wager many will admit they fear death on some level. Particularly as we embrace the realities of parenthood, the idea of a premature death can be terrifying. 

While I get that, personally I've reached an age where my own bodily harm and questions about my mortality are frightening only because I am afraid what my loss would mean to my children and my husband. 

My husband, on the other hand, now we've come round to where my deepest fear comes from: his death. Even writing about this creeps me out, in a superstitious way. 

Because, the thing is, I saw it happen. One day, 16 months ago, I watched in horror as my tall, strong, stoic husband slowly collapsed to the floor of a toy store. For reasons that are still a medical mystery, he had a full body grand mal seizure. 

During those long minutes I held on to his hand as he convulsed, soothing him and begging him to stay with me. His eyes rolled back, blood eventually ran out of his mouth, and as his body relaxed in it's unconsciousness, I had a just enough time to imagine what life would be like for me, for my children, if we lost this man. 

I have never been so terrified in all my days. 

Would we endure? Of course, I know we would. As I know my loved ones would go on should a dire fate befall me. 

But if you're asking what I fear more than anything? 

To endure a life without my husband. 

Join me all November long for new posts as part of National Blog Posting Month. 

Is that a Butterfly in Your Tummy?

“You must face the fear!

First delve deep and then expound," 

Dug down: Hurled on ground.

Inspired by my quest for inner peace, as well as this week's prompt from Haiku Horizons. 

"Run" down Memory Lane: a Sunday Confession

There is a jukebox in my head. 

Well, no, that's just silly. 

Truth is, there is a little chick who lives in my brain and she's in charge of finding things. 

This chick digs music. I imagine that for her the songs are somehow tied into the filing system. I don't get how it works, but it's totally clear that her system is musical. 

So when I hear a word like "run" the chick in my head fires up the old laptop. She does a search & then she just starts hitting play. 

First Pink starts things off singing Where I can run, just as fast as I can, to the middle of nowhere...

Next thing I know the chick has mashed up Just Like a Pill with Brian Adams Run to You. And frankly, it's not working. All I'm getting from this is a headache & crowd of long smokey evenings spent at the pub. 

Maybe I've got no.... Wait?! What's this? Snow Patrol? Oh, I could listen to this song all night... 

Light up, light up

As if you have a choice

Even if you cannot hear my voice

I'll be right beside you dear

Again I recall nights at the pub when the song first hit in the US. The band was a favorite of the bartender & so it was on a loop. 

To think I might not see those eyes

Makes it so hard not to cry

And as we say our long goodbye

I nearly do

Flash forward (or back?): 

I was pregnant with Girl. Still working, I had a long commute & spent a lots of car time listening to music. Three or more hours, without distractions, to just think. It was a dubious luxury. 

Somehow in all that time spent alone with my thoughts and heightened hormones, I became paranoid that I was going to die delivering my daughter. And I was terrified that my son would feel betrayed. 

Slower slower

We don't have time for that

All I want's to find an easy way

To get out of our little heads

I knew I had to get past it, but i had no idea what to do? My Boy was only 18 months old when the Girl was born. How do you convey a lifetime of love to someone so young? Preparing him for the new baby was hard enough, and I here I felt like he was going to gain a sister and lose his mommy in a terrible swap. 

Have heart, my dear   We're bound to be afraid

Even if it's just for a few days   Making up for all this mess

I thought about it all the time.

Until one day I found the lovely children's book I Love You Through and Through. I had found my solution. I inscribed it: "For my darling Boy - with all my love. xoxo Mommy" 

Then I packed it in my hospital bag. A true token of his mother's love, ready to be given to my son when he came to meet his baby sister. 

Even if I wasn't there to give it to him. 

Light up, light up

As if you have a choice

Even if you cannot hear my voice

I'll be right beside you dear

Wishing Well for Amy

Yesterday was my little Winter Girl's 2nd birthday. I really can't believe it was only 2 years ago, and at the same time I can't believe she's already 2. Time is funky like that, isn't it?

Along the same flying timelines (see what I did there?), I have a very dear friend - let's call her Amy - who is nearing the end of her first pregnancy. Note: Although, we've been friends nearly 3 decades, and we were in our double digits when we met, I am NOT saying she's an OLD friend. We shall now skip past the various paradoxes this brings up regarding time & age & my memory.

So Amy lives way the shite up in Alaska these days. This made a traditional baby shower with her friends and family who are down in the Lower 48 a bit more than problematic. But in this age of social media, everyone can be gathered into a group on ye olde Facebook to participate in some of the silly & sweet that goes into showering a new mommy & baby with love.

One of the things we "guests" were asked to do was fill in the following phrases with our wishes for the baby. Honestly though, my first thoughts were all my wishes for Amy, as she joins the ranks of New Moms. Some are things that were passed on to me in the last 4 years, some are frankly things I'm still working on for myself.

While I wrote these words for her, I am fairly certain Amy won't mind my sharing.

I hope you love... every minute of being a mom. Chances are you might not though, heaven knows I don't always. In those moments know you are not alone & it's OK. Ya know what they say: Parenthood is the best job there is - but the hours suck and the bosses really are just whiny little tyrants.
I also hope you love wine, because, well, look up mommy and wine on Pinterest. You'll get the idea.

I hope you learn... to sometimes be selfish. This is so much easier said than done, at least for me. Even harder not to be guilty about it. But you need time off. To yourself. Alone. So schedule it for yourself - a few minutes every day if you can, a few hours every week. Exercise, read, soak in a shower or tub, go have your toes done, hide in the kitchen and surf the internet watching cat videos. Time for YOU will make all the difference.

I hope you ignore... the unread mail, the piles of laundry, the dirty bathroom, and all the other chores for a long time. Particularly the first few months. Always remember you just GREW a person. Inside you. Then had it pulled out of you. Trust me, your body needs a wee bit of time, or like 6 months, to recover from that experience. In the meantime, that little person you grew is still looking to you to take care of it. You have plenty to do feeding & bathing the 2 of you. For the love of all that is right and holy -  the dishes and laundry and vacuuming can damn well wait for someone else to do it.

I hope you aren't afraid to follow your instincts, your mother's intuition, your heart. No one on the Earth will ever know your baby like you do. There are lots of places out there to seek advice, and lots of folks who will give it. I've got the greatest pediatrician on the planet. She is no nonsense, no drama & is extremely supportive of me as a parent & in trusting my gut. This gave me immeasurable confidence. So I will pass along her wisdom: Listen to your inner voice. You will know what is right for you & your baby & your family. Do that.

Likewise, I hope you aren't afraid to ask for help if you need it. Particularly when you feel like you don't know what you're doing, that you cannot do what you think your baby needs, or that you just can't handle it - please say that out loud & until someone hears you.
Maybe more importantly - don't be afraid or ashamed to accept the help. Four years and 2 kids into my parenting gig & this is probably my greatest struggle. No, no one is going to do whatever it is the way you probably think it should get done. Take a deep breath & just be OK with that.

I hope you grow to be the mother you always wanted to be. You are still amazing even if you find you became another mommy altogether. Expectations are funny things - at least for me. They often get in the way of my seeing the beauty of reality, because it's not what I envisioned.

I hope you laugh at how absurd being a parent is. I hope you laugh even as you are crying in frustration. I hope you laugh when your kid does something SO outrageous you want to scream. I hope you laugh when the baby poops on the shirt you just put on, or throws up down your back 5 minutes after the first shower you've managed to have in 3 days. I hope you laugh at yourself, a lot. I honestly believe you have to laugh at yourself or you'll cry your eyes out. Me, I usually do both at the same.

I hope you remember every moment & cherish them... Oh Hell NO. Please don't do that. Why do people even say that? "Remember these times, they are so precious. They grow so fast, hold onto every second." Yeah, don't bother. For one thing entire months are a flipping blur & seriously, a lot of it you'll be happy to forget. Unless you're really into bodily fluids, maybe. Me, not so much.
Instead, when the those sweet, funny, remarkable, sunlit, beautiful & otherwise perfect moments happen - take a mental picture. If it stays all gauzy and you have the time, then go grab the camera. But first, lock it in your mind. I promise you, when the roller coaster car is flying off the rails, you'll remember - and be able to laugh.

I hope you believe... You're already an outstanding mommy.