I used to get annoyed by my mother’s constant worrying. She worried about everywhere I went and everything I did. I am 33 years old and to this day, if I am going on a long journey she calls to find out if I have arrived at my destination safely. If I am spending the night away from home, she calls around 9 or 10pm to find out if I am safely in my hotel room. I would often tell her she should relax and stop worrying so much and she’d always say “When you are a mother you will understand.” Well, I am now a mother and I really do understand.
The worrying started the day I found out I was pregnant. Of course, the first terrifying thought was “How do I tell my parents?” Remember, I had just finished my bachelors and no parent wants to know their young daughter is pregnant with twins just after finishing her first degree. So, after I got over that hurdle, the other thoughts came pouring in. There was a flood of “what ifs” about pregnancy, childbirth and parenting and it took everything in me to not panic. Thank God for the reassuring words, love and support of my family and my boyfriend (now my husband, Gabriel).
I never wanted to be a mother that worries too much, but when the boys were born, there came another completely different set of worries. Breastfeeding, SIDS, sleeping through the night, weaning, crawling and learning to walk, climbing and falling off of furniture, first day of school – the list of worries was endless! I don’t want my entire post to be all about my worries as a mom in the early years, so let’s fast forward to the most recent one. In my first blog post you learned that my boys are now 11 years old. This past weekend, we went on a family trip to the fantastic Hilton Rose Hall Resort & Spa in Montego Bay, Jamaica for our annual family Labour Day weekend getaway. The boys were having the time of their lives, and so was I, when Gabriel suggests we take a walk on the beach, leaving the boys in the pool. I was horrified! Leave my precious babies without my supervision? What if the lifeguard gets distracted at a point when they need help? What if they come down the water slide too fast and plummet into the pool faster than they anticipated? What if another child starts to play too rough with them? What if…? What if…? What if…? Nonetheless, he persuaded me that they are old enough and they will be fine; so off we went. But the “what ifs” were still plaguing my mind. It seemed like an eternity that we were walking on that beach. Yes, the scenery was beautiful and we got some great pictures, but at the back of my mind was, “Please Lord, let my children be alive and well when I get back to the pool.” Of course, the boys were perfectly happy, safe and alive when I arrived at the pool; and I was so relieved!
But it didn’t stop there! The boys went to the Teen Zone to play video games and Gabriel once again suggested we leave them; he had no idea what he did to my poor heart! So, I pretended that I was okay and said “Sure hon” and off we went again on our walk; of course, with my “what ifs” buzzing around in my head again. You would think that I learned from the pool incident not to worry and to calm my anxieties, but no, my fears were persistent! Am I irrational? Is this what all mothers do? Will I ever stop? To answer my questions, I turned to Google. It was there that I found articles about dealing with anxiety and the impact that they may have on my children later in life. I found two really useful articles about being a “helicopter parent” and dealing with chronic worrying and I would like to share them with you my fellow “worry moms”. 🙂 I found these to be very insightful and will be putting them into practice to arm myself for the next worry session.
Share some of your worries and how you deal with them; they could help me and my readers.