Worry

I’m a worrier. It’s what I do. And, while being in the NICU creates justified worry, post-NICU inspires its own fears. Tess is doing great, from what we can tell. Still, by throwing away the rule book we’ve also thrown away the yardstick. What if we’re wrong? As her fall follow-up appointments come closer, the mean little voices of doubt insinuate themselves into my inner dialogue. Mom mentioned she doesn’t always look at who’s holding her; now I wonder if she’s on the autism spectrum. Her head’s still wobbly and one of her legs twitches when she stretches; did we miss cerebral palsy in her assessment? She doesn’t reach and grab yet; is that a big deal? The answer is no. Many well-trained professionals have examined her for myriad problems, and so far the answer has been a resounding, “how is she doing this well?!” still, the niggling fact remains that preemies can have sleeper issues. In all likelihood, Tess will be 100% in the clear…but worrying is what moms do.

Dave, the awesome hubby, has been great at making me feel like less of a freak, sharing my worry but reassuring me that there is no actual need for fear. Knowing that is a comfort, and watching Tess learn to chat and play with her hands is calming and entertaining. Still, the cute baby moon is transitioning with her clothing size!

Our awesome kitchen streak may be related to the worry machine. I cook to calm down. Last night we had whole wheat pizza with hummus, zucchini, fresh and sun-dried tomatoes and a touch of bacon and feta. It was awesome. May the games continue!

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