Friday, March 21, 2008

Fear, denial


My husband moves to CA on Sunday. I've been ignoring that fact fairly successfully, although I have been pushing him to get some manly tasks done (e.g., cleaning the gutters) before he goes.

I have some irrational (or maybe partially rational but still weird) fears related to being a solo parent. One, what if I die in my sleep? Actually, this is probably the best-case scenario of my worst-case scenarios, since if I were asleep, it would mean So.ren would be in his crib and more or less safe until the babysitter arrived to find my cold, dead body. I am more worried about, like, falling down the stairs while holding So.ren, who is now totally mobile and EXTREMELY INTERESTED in anything hazardous. So what if I fell down the stairs and got knocked unconscious, and So.ren either got hurt or was okay but crawled into the fireplace or chewed a power cable and then the dog ate both of our bodies? I need to think of some system for alerting people that I am still alive at appropriate intervals (end of day, start of day) so that they can send in reinforcements to check on our welfare if needed. The dog, incidentally, would be completely useless and not one of those heroic pets who calls 911 or alerts the neighbors by barking "SOS."

Also, what if I am somehow responsible for injury or death befalling So.ren? My husband is usually the delinquent overseer (for instance, while he was "watching" So.ren the other day, I returned to find So.ren halfway up our very steep stairs while my husband was emailing and thought the baby was still in the room), but what if I start developing similar habits? More realistically, what will happen to So.ren if I am so afraid of his getting hurt that I don't let him do anything? His muscles might atrophy and he could lose all social skills.

Wow, that sounds insane. I hope by verbalizing my fears, I will be inoculated against their coming true.

We also decided not to do an FET until May for a few logistical reasons, such as that we have to go to my father-in-law's 70th birthday party and a wedding in late April, right around the time we'd be getting the FET done, so why not just wait until May? This sort of blithe toying with the schedule probably ensures that it won't work.

[Pictured above: So.ren at 10 months, ready to dive off the couch and go in search of hazards.]

4 comments:

Jess said...

Everything will be ok, I'm sure!! I hope writeing everything down helped, though!

I hear you on the hazards. DUDE. Ava (also born May 14, 07) loveslovesloves any and all cords.

My Reality said...

Just a thought - could the same tragic things not happen if your husband lived in the same house and was perhaps out at the store or away at work? I don't say that to mock you or anything like that, just that it could happen no matter what. For me, recognizing that sometimes makes things less scary.

You will do fine with all of this. I realize saying what I said above might not make it sound that way, but you and So.ren will be ok! And if you don't want to hear any of my twisted re-assurances, just tell me where to go!

He is so freakin' cute, btw!

statia said...

I can't believe how big he looks here. It's like they lose their babyness overnight and look like a full blown kid.

We have a danger baby too. The stairs, sofas, anything higher than he is. Thankfully, he's got that helmet padding his noggin. I'm going to be a mess when he's done with it.

Jane said...

Wow -- he's looking so grown-up and daring! Adorable.

I'm sure you'll do just fine on your own. Just think of all the strong prairie mothers of yore who tended their broods of babies and children alone on the homestead while their husbands went off to hunt or to take their crops to the big city. Not only did they have to watch the kids sans safety gates; they had no indoor plumbing, no phone to call for help, no internet to look up medical symptoms, and their dogs were all scabby and ill-tempered.


Still, I'm sure only a very small fraction of their children fell into wells or were trampled by horses or badly burned in tragic oil lamp accidents or contracted the diptheria.


Don't worry!