I am a natural worrier.
I can think, rethink, and worry out every single scenario possible. Becoming a parent only amplified that.
From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I worried. Every single twinge and ache and sensation worried me. I scoured the pregnancy books to calm myself and prepare for what was to come.
Along with that worry came wonder.
I wondered each pregnancy who my babies would be and who they would become. As I have watched them grow there has been wonder in all they do and all they are. Never far away, though, was worry. In the early days I scoured all the parenting books to calm myself and prepare for what was to come.
Fast forward to an April day where I sat in the pediatrician’s office when I poured out my worries about my son and his development. There is no parenting book to prepare you for the news that your child has a disability.
That day set off a new set of worry and wonder.
I worried that life would be unnecessarily hard.
I worried that he would never speak.
I worried that he would never be independent.
I worried that he would be lonely.
I worried he would never have a friend.
I worried about what would happen to him if something happened to my husband and me? Would someone love him the way we did?
I’d lie awake at 3am and worry about anything and everything I could imagine.
Frankly, I wondered what the hell we were going to do. What was the right course of therapy? What was the right type of educational setting? How could I juggle all the appointments and evaluations with work? How would we pay for it all?
But what replaced that worry and wonder?
Wonder of how hard my boy worked. Wonder at how far he has come. Wonder at all he knows and tells me. The worry is there, but they showed us odds and we exceeded the expectations.
I wonder sometimes how we did it all, but we made it through.
Then last March. Deja vu. Round two began with another diagnosis of my other boy. All those original worries revisited me.
But once again so did the wonder as he scaled his mountains.
I once read that faith and worry cannot exist in the same place so you have to decide where to live.
For the most part, I believe that.
When I focus to much on the worry or the wondering, I lose sight of the wonder of all that is good and all that is amazing.
The worries will always be there.
I will always wonder if I am doing enough for my boys or if I can lighten their load somehow.
But most of the time, the worry and wondering is replaced by the wonders that are my boys.