I have been afraid of so many things in my life, some that make sense and some that don’t. I’m afraid of the dark because I don’t see well in it, clowns because I have a sense of self preservation, and fireworks because loud, sudden noises and myself don’t mix well.
Tonight I cried inconsolably in the NICU bathroom because of the sound of running feet. It’s not uncommon here for someone to have to move around quickly, that’s kind of the nature of a NICU with lots of tiny things just like yourself here. But hearing lots of feet moving all at once means bad things are happening. Lots of feet running means someone who is already having the worst time of their lives may be seeing that time get even worse. Tonight while cowering in that single stall, sobbing to the point I worried I pulled some stitches, I know now I’m afraid of the sound of running feet. I am so lucky that you are doing as well as you have been, but I know that that can change at any point. I’m afraid of the possibility that there are things that could go wrong with you here in your bed that I can’t fix.
I am afraid of losing you before I’ve ever even gotten to have you. I have never fed you from my body or rocked you to sleep in your own room. I am afraid of not knowing what you need or how you need it. Of just not being enough.
Impatiently Waiting 