When talking to my newly pregnant sister she mentioned how worried she was about how the baby was doing. She’s headed into that scary territory between the positive test and the first ultrasound where there are no promises and, for some, little evidence that everything is okay. I remember how sick it made me at times, the not-knowing, and the frustration of not being able to guarantee my daughter’s health and safety. I didn’t tell her what both you and I know: It doesn’t stop.
Nearly every day I worry that RR will fall and hit her head, that she’ll run into the street, that she’ll get sick. I worry that today will be the day I lose her or my wife. That a terrible twist will utterly and completely suck the air out of my world. It’s a rabbit hole of dread. I stay as far from the brink as I can. It would be too easy to be paranoid…or paralyzed.
Tonight I’m deeply sad for a family that lost their child to cancer and the air from their world. We can’t protect any of them, can we? It’s the most awful thing in the world.