I wish I could go back and brush off the layers of fear that I experienced everything through. I remember bathing my tiny baby wrecked with anxiety his head would go under or I'd hit his head on the faucet. I was afraid to leave the house, knowing he would cry in the car, knowing I just couldn't bare it. I couldn't bare him crying for me and not being able to comfort him. Bed time was an obsessive panic dance instead of a relaxing time in the evening.
Absolutely everything was covered in a quiet panic. "New moms just worry a lot." As if it was just worry. I don't think I felt safe for ten minutes for the entire first 4 months of his life.
I wish I could go back and experience having a newborn without feeling like something horrendous was about to happen every second. It makes me frustrated that the anxiety will always be apart of my memory of my sweet boy's newborn phase.
I'll try to come to peace with it. I'm not sure how. But I'll try.
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