What I Worry Most About for My Children

On a hot summer day, Nixon was born a tiny baby fighting his emergency entrance into this world—a warrior brought into the world early. On that day, I worried that we both would lose a fighting battle against our bodies. He was whisked away to the NICU, hooked up to monitors, under lights, and the protective glass sheltering him from the scary outside world. Me, recovering as my body failed me, not strong enough to hold or see my tiny baby.

I wondered if he would miss me being there, his mother, the person who should be the first person to shelter him from the outside world. Was he as scared as I was?

Nora was born on a brisk day in December, I held her shortly after birth. She healed my wounded heart from her brother’s birth experience. I worried that my emotions from our NICU experience would cast a dark shadow on this tiny baby. That I would miss all the special moments as I sat in that worry.

I wondered if she would feel my heart reaching out to her as I held her in my arms. Would she know that the love I felt for her was deep to my core?

Our son has always had a sweet open spirit. He is the type of boy to share his last cracker, to wrap you in a long hug after he has faced his day. His jokes, sometimes unintentional, make me laugh till tears roll down my cheek. I worry that the people outside our front door won’t see what a truly magically spirit he is.

I wonder if he will find a special connection to another how I share one with his father.

With her fierce embrace of the room, our daughter takes in the world with a breathtaking magnification. She draws you into her space with simple hand gestures and her full spirit. I worry that she will dive into that space a little too deep as time goes on.

I wonder if she will move mountains and make waves in a world that needs her embrace. If she will make her mark like fierce women who I admire and have come before her.

I worry that I will make a mistake parenting both of these beautiful souls.

I worry that I will, in some way, push what I want on them too powerfully.

I wonder what qualities they will grasp onto from both their father and me.

I wonder if they will speak of us in a way that I cannot see from this side.

I know that the worry will often shift to wondering. That the mountain of fears will change to mountains of success, the sadness will be reshaped to alternate expectations.

I hope that we all can shine our light with who we are, what type of people we want to be, and are embraced with a clear understanding by others.

That they will surround themselves with people who want to know them as much as we do.

I will continue to worry, and I will continue to wonder as we walk this path together.