Fear

I have always been an anxious person. Going to the airport to fly somewhere used to be next level for me, constantly worried if I would have enough time to do all the crap you need to to get on the plane. Then I had Logan and got to experience a whole new level. The real fear had started. Of course we obsessed over every little thing. Turns out during the first few days I wasn't really producing any milk, so he wasn't eating enough, even though when they sent us home from the hospital no one raised a red flag and told us things were going fine. Just a reminder that this was the height of the Covid pandemic in Brooklyn. We could look out the window and see the refrigerated trailers that held the overflow of bodies of people who were dying so rapidly. It was terrifying. Our nurses didn't check in with us very often, and the "lactation consultant" did literally nothing. She wouldn't even touch us, so I had no idea what the fuck I was doing.

So when we went to the pediatrician a few days after going home, they were horrified at how much weight he had lost and yelled at me. They made me sit there and feed him formula until he was satisfied. Talk about fear, guilt, and anxiety! I already thought I was a failure 3 days into motherhood.

Fast forward about a year. We were terrified of SIDS. They always say it's unexplained, but then directions on everything and countless articles tell you numerous ways to prevent it. So what the fuck?? What do you DO with that? Anyhow, finally on Logan's first birthday we weren't so scared all the time. on top of that, I was pregnant with Teddy, so I had other things to distract me. But really, aside from those first few months, we got more comfortable with Logan sleeping on his own. I would still stare at the baby monitor so I could see his chest moving, but I didn't have this fear every morning that he would be dead or anything.

Fast forward to Teddy. When he was born he wasn't breathing very well on his own, so he had to spend the first 2 nights of his short life in the NICU. He quickly adapted and was in our arms the morning of September 25 (He was born on the 23rd). He spent the first 2 months of this life almost entirely in either mine or Paul's arms. He wouldn't sleep in his bassinet, no matter how tightly we swaddled him. We found that the best way was to prop him up while one of us stayed with him on the couch. We would take turns, but it was so exhausting.

Then there was the SIDS fear once he started sleeping in the room with Logan. He was somewhere between 5-6 months, once he started being able to turn over. Teddy was a tummy sleeper, through and through. No matter how many times we turned him over, he always flipped to his belly during the night. I don't know if it was that, or if it was some sort of insane intuition that I feared for Teddy every single night.

Every morning I would wake up to see him smiling at me, I felt this palpable wave of relief. I don't ever remember really feeling like that with Logan. This fear never went away. Repeat: this fear never went away. Even after Teddy's birthday. I think it might have even gotten more pronounced. Literally every day I would see him alive and happy I would thank HP for another day with my son.

I'm a big daydreamer. I can create these "realities" in my head that are so detailed and I can see them playing out before my eyes. Sometimes I get so caught up in them I have to shake my head to bring my brain back into my body. I would have these visions of waking up to find Teddy had died during the night and they were so awful. I would conjure up what I would say or do, and how Paul would react. I would think, "how fucked up is this that my brain keeps doing this to me!?"

Then the morning came, and none of those fucked up visions weren't even CLOSE to what happened. It was so fucking awful. I think all the time about what I could have done to save him. What if we hadn't gone to Delaware? What if we had gone to Disney like we had planned to before my body crapped out on me? What if we had put his pack and play in the bedroom we were sleeping in, or had him in bed with us?

Logan is sick right now. He has had this cold for a week now. Runny nose, cough, watery eyes... no fever, though. But it has been a week and I am TERRIFIED. We will take him to the doctor Monday if he is not better, but what if I wake up tomorrow and he doesn't? What if I lose the only other thing keeping me tied to this planet?

Now I know what you are all thinking - "Claire, surely nothing like that could ever happen to you again, so please stop worrying. He'll be okay, it's just a cold." Well I can guarantee you that unless you have had something as traumatic as what happened to us happen to you, you can go fuck off. I say this with all the love and compassion in my heart. People say all the time, "I can't even imagine what you are going through." Well I challenge you, right here, right now- IMAGINE IT. Imagine your child, dead in your arms without any rhyme or reason. Imagine the person closest to you, dead. Their body cold and stiff, no warmth left in it, frozen in the same position they were in when they took their last breath. Don't fight with me, just fucking do it. Now imagine that you have to live with that, and the added fear that you can (and will) have another loss in your future. You don't know when or where or who it will be, but it will happen. That's where my head is at right now.

This evening I was sitting outside after a fun day at the zoo with my brother, his wife, and Logan, smoking a cigarette and looking at pictures of Teddy. I hate being alone with my thoughts, but I forced myself to just be for a few minutes. (I think that is the only benefit to smoking.) I was just thinking about how unfair it all is, how much I miss him, how I wish I could kiss his cheeks and hear his giggles. Watch him run all over the zoo and get in trouble with his big brother. How awful it is that I will never see him again... I looked over and a cherry blossom petal had landed on our porch. As I stared at it I realized it was shaped like a heart, kind of partially folded so it was perfectly symmetrical. In the next breath it blew away. I know that that was my Teddy Bear, showing me that he still loves me and that he is here with me, all the time. It was so beautiful. I am crying, thinking about it now.

Now, maybe when I close my eyes, I will see that little sign from my baby boy. So short and fleeting, but THERE and PERFECT. And then, gone. So beautiful. I miss you, my precious egg. Mommy loves you forever.

Please enjoy this perfect video of my son, Logan from today's adventures at the zoo.