Being a mom is hard.... And not just in the I never sleep, someone relies on me to live kind of way. In the I am now bound to a life of worry and second guessing kind of way. There are tiny moments where I forget I'm a mom. And when I say tiny, I mean tiny. Most times when I "forget", there's a tiny baby sock on the floor or on the couch or on the ottoman (seriously...I find baby socks everywhere!!) to remind me.
The other night as I came up to bed, I saw the clothes Alexia had worn that day on our bed and I immediately thought about how much I love her. And how I can't believe we are keeping her forever. Almost ten months in and I still can't believe she's ours to keep.
I would be lying if I said I don't think about life before the baby. Not because she is a bad baby or because I don't love her, because neither of those things are true, but because the things I worried about before Alexia seem so trivial now. I have developed a minor anxious feeling (I definitely wouldn't call it anxiety right now) because I worry about my little girl. Apparently this is what parenthood really is. Worrying about this tiny person who keeps growing and facing new challenges and presenting me with new challenges. I worry if I'm feeding her the right things, if I'm stimulating her mind enough, if I'm reading enough books to her, if she should be walking, if she should be writing novels by now and earning her PhD.
I would categorize myself as a pretty laid back mom. I like to expose Alexia to lots of new situations and people so that she is comfortable. She has already been to at least five baseball games in her short lifetime. She's already flown four times. She's been to a zoo and a children's museum and parties and dinners and on walks around town. I'm not overly worried about dirt and germs.
But still, I find myself worrying about the night that she'll get the flu and be up all night. I worry that my heart will break, wishing it could be me that was sick instead of her. I worry that some boy (or girl) will break her heart someday and I won't be able to help. I worry that she won't feel beautiful or smart or loved.
These are the things I worry about. The things that for me, make being a mom tough. The things that won't get any easier with time and that I will always worry about. Sometimes I think back to those days before I had her and think of the silly things I worried about. They weren't silly then, but this new little life has made me realize what's actually worth worrying about.
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