Fear

I'm not a fearful person. I don't worry constantly about the small stuff. I have never once wondered if I left the iron plugged in or the front door wide open. I am cautious and I pay attention to my surroundings but I simply don't waste my time wondering about what could be going wrong at any given moment. I've always felt sorry for people who ARE like that. It must be exhausting! The people who never use a crockpot because they could never leave the house with it plugged in. The ones, like my college roommate, who check and re-check and re-check and check once again to make sure that her windshield wipers and radio were turned off before she got out of the car to go anywhere. Don't even get me started on the window and door lock routine she performed SO MANY TIMES every day. She was adorable, but I could never relate to what she was feeling that made her do this each time she got out of the car.
I have never even been overly concerned for my personal safety - I am AWARE, but rarely afraid. That being said, I don't put myself in harms way very often, and I certainly don't leap before I look. I go where I need to go, or where I want to go because I am a person who stands up. I trust myself and my instincts.
I have parents who are the definition of trustworthy. They are ROCK SOLID. They were very cautious with us as children but they never made me fearful - not for myself. They taught me to be careful and to pay attention. Now, I lived in fear of something happening to my younger sister- they put that fear into me alright. I was never entirely comfortable when it was my watch. We lived together in college for a while and I was a nervous wreck if she stayed out late or dated someone. I felt responsible for someone eles's child. I'd spent my life looking out for her but when it came time to do it with my parents far away I hated it. When she got pregnant unexpectedly my first reaction was, "They're going to kill me." I was so wrong. I blamed myself for not "watching" her. Even though I had tried to scare her boyfriend away! They never blamed me a bit, or if they did they never let it show.
I'm talking about fear because all of a sudden I can't shake it, and it's foreign to me. I am accustomed to worry about other people. I worry about my parents, my family, my husband. I worry about my friends, my dogs, my community. I'm accustomed to living with the small scary voices in the way back of my head. All I can do about those is live every day, appreciate the people I love and shout down the voices that way. Now, suddenly, it's A Very Big Voice. The "what if's" are overwhelming. How do parents do this every day? If the doctor tells me I have a healthy, perfect baby will I stop worrying? No. Then I'll start worrying about SIDS. Later, Autism. After that just your average what-if-he-seriously-injures-himself worry, which, let's face it, is not too out-there for a boy. I don't think that one EVER goes away. I'm 31 and my dad still asks me if I take my vitamins. I honestly don't know how any parent sleeps at night. I keep thinking about Madeline Spohr. I watch Grey's Anatomy and there is every parent's worst nightmare. I think about the people I know personally, albeit only a few, who have lost children. I guess I'm hoping that if I worry enough, that if I'm vigilant enough, that if I don't miss ANYTHING maybe we'll get through this life without any drama. Maybe I should be most worried about myself swan-diving into the deep end.