I was listening to an audiobook and I was at an important scene where one of the main characters tells the story of when her baby drowned. I was surprised at how I much more it affected me now that I’m a mom. I could feel myself wanting to shed tears for a fictional baby’s death.
It’s not that I ever was OK with stories about babies getting sick or dying, but now, it’s different.
While I was pregnant I remember seeing a movie with a scene of a pregnant woman getting attacked and I was horrified.
Now, I get frightened about all of the terrible things that could happen to this very special little person in my life. It never lasts long, but I’m much more aware of potential bad things.
I guess it’s normal. I guess it’s part of being a mom. I want to protect Judge from every hurt in this world, and I know that’s not actually possible.
There’s a positive side to this new awareness, too, though.
I want Judge to experience so much in life. I want him to try so many things. I want him to play an instrument, try a sport or two, experiment with dance, make things. I get a thrill thinking about what his future will be like.
Happily, those thrills far outweigh the frights.
P.S. These photos are from FATHER’S DAY. That’s how far behind I am and that’s why my baby doesn’t look like the almost-eight-month-old that he is.