A Million Ways to Die

I can't sleep.  A lot has changed in 2 years...my ever-present sleep disorder is not one of them.  April 29th, my wife and I were blessed with our second son.  He's now 7 days old and just back to birth weight (normal for a breast fed infant). I woke up to tachypnic stridor (fast breathing with a high pitched snore like noise on inspiration).  I woke up as a parent and immediately rushed to his side, wide eyed...he was fine, it was positional (when I changed how he was laying it went away).  He was also not struggling to breath, his skin was warm, pink, and he smiled as he farted on me...a normal happy 7 day old.  I changed his blanket swaddle so he wouldn't make that freaky noise, hovered on him for a couple seconds and then forced myself to walk away, my mantra, what will happen will happen. I think you might convince yourself that I'm a really relaxed parent if you were watching me, that's because in my mind I'm constantly obsessing about how my children will get hurt or die...I can't stop...that's normal probably for a parent...but honestly I've done that for a long time before my kids came along. Before it was my kids, it was my parents, my brothers, my grandparents...my underlying thought is that in predicting and seeing how they die I might forestall it...like God would be like, "Oh damn it, he caught me again...he sees where I'm going with this whole heart attack thing...guess I'm gonna have to change my strategy." It's a stupid childhood thought, but it really belies a underlying monstrous fear of loosing those I love.  I know I don't have any control, so I've made a obsession/ritual thought/whatever to pacify me.  The big thing in all this is I see death and illness as a thing that is out of my control, I see so many ways for my kids to kill themselves that I've had to relax...or risk my head exploding.  My near two year old could fall in the pool, he could get hit by a car as he crosses the road, he could fall down the stairs, he could get sick with an infection, he could get a bad cancer, he could get stung or bitten by the wrong bug/snake, he could get kidnapped, he could choke on food or a balloon, he could pull a TV or something heavy down on his head, he could have a food allergy, he could strangulate himself on curtain strings somehow...and my 7 day old...it's very possible (at least in my mind) he could just fail to keep breathing, he could start having seizures, ...and on and on and on.  In my mind I see a bazillion ways for God to take them from me and I realize no hand sanitizer ritual, no constant hovering while they sleep, nothing I can do can prevent them or anyone I love from God taking them from me.  I could protect them from one thing just for one of them to develop a cancer we can't treat.  I think of all these things...probably more than I think of anything anymore...and then with a deep breath I have to let it go. Of course there are times like tonight where I don't have the luxury of slowly thinking about it and I awake in a panic.  I don't know that I'm any different from any other parent, you obsess about your kids and if its a good day you find the strength to let them outside your nest, so they can live, learn, and grow...and you recite your comforting repetitive mantra or thought, whatever that might be.

Newbie Doc