Worry Wart

I don’t know why I’m thinking of this could it have anything to do with a certain someone’s BIRTHDAY being last week?  but for the last few days I’ve been remembering how – when I brought my daughter home from the hospital – I became a complete mess of worries.  (And yes, that’s PLURAL.  That’s the plural for wackadoodle all the live long day.)

I worried about EVERYTHING.  I worried that I might trip coming out of her nursery and accidentally send her sailing over the railing of the upstairs walkway to the family floor below.

I worried that she might die in the night and so I would sneak into her room half a dozen times and bump the crib just to see her rustle around.

And then I heard the story of that mother who, during some sort of postpartum psychosis, CUT HER INFANT DAUGHTERS ARMS OFF WITH A KNIFE!!!!

I called my husband crying over that and couldn’t shake the horribleness of it loose for days and days.  And it’s right about that time I began to worry about strangers.  My biggest “stranger” fear was that someone would sneak into the house at night and take my daughter from her room and do her wrong.  (My daughter’s room was the first one at the top of the stairs, making her easy pickins’ for someone who wanted a massive, zitty infant with cradle cap and was willing to get past all the locked doors in the house AND the 110 pound dog AND up a flight of stairs to the bedroom at the top all just to SNATCH her in the middle of the night.  Did I mention that part about wackadoodle all the live long day?!?  Yeah.  I’m pretty sure I mentioned that already.  ‘Cept make it wackadoodle all the live long NIGHT too.)

After this oh-so-fun-fear had been top-of-mind for a week or so, I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night.  For no apparent reason.  I’m lying in bed listening to the house sounds.  Wondering why I had woken up.

And then I hear it.  There’s a woman in my daughter’s room talking to her! 


I don’t remember if I even woke my husband to explain what was going on.  I just remember thinking that my biggest fear had come to pass…but that I had to put a stop to it.

So I go bustin’ into the baby’s room!  No weapons, no nuthin’.  Just my Mother’s Courage and my leaky breasts. 

My newborn daughter jerks awake and starts crying.  And I realize that the woman’s voice I heard in my room is actually coming through the baby monitor.  The woman five houses up the street also had a newborn and for some reason the monitor signals got crossed.  She had been talking quietly to HER baby.  In MY baby’s room.

HAHAHAHahahahahahaha!!!  Isn’t that FUNNY?!? 


No cause for alarm folks.  Carry on.

And I don’t know why I’m telling you this.  Other than to prove that I’m a good mother.

Thanks for stopping by to get that clarified.  Now – like I said – carry on.

2 thoughts on “Worry Wart

  1. I remember my wackiness with my first born as well. I was sure they were going to mix up babies at the hospital… I still cringe at my actions in the delivery room when I INSISTED the nurse put a foot tag on him IMMEDIATELY!!! Sissy is growing so fast and it’s hard to wrestle with how fast the last 12 years have zipped by and how the next 12 will fly too. I’m glad you’ve had some time to slow down and be with them while they still need you 🙂

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