Turn the Lights On

Sometimes no matter how long you have been doing something, you can have a moment that makes you doubt your capabilities. When my daughter woke up with a raging fever this morning, seven years of experience leaped out the window and left me in a puddle of questions. As I sat there holding my precious baby that has grown so much, I was taken back to the first time I held each of my children. I remember the wonder and awe that I gazed upon them with. I remember the unshakable feeling of wondering if I could possibly take care of this precious little bundle as well as I am supposed to. How was this big kid trusted with the care of something so reliant, so fragile and so precious?

In my "formative years" i.e. early twenties, I worked in a medical office. I remember panicked moms calling in for different symptoms, childhood illnesses, wanting immediate attention. I knew the generic response and the protocol for these situations. Because I also worked in medical records, I also remember the usual outcome of most of the diagnosis and treatments. I always said I didn't want to be that paranoid parent. Sometimes it seems like that experience is so far removed that I forget the basics.

The middle of the night often brings out desperation and feelings of being alone. It amplifies things that are ordinarily not scary during the middle of the day for children and adults alike. Sitting with a child feverish, shaking with cold and feeling so utterly inept to relieve their discomfort can be magnified by 100x in the wee hours of the morning. It's like the darkness increases the fear of what you cannot see. As I swept her hair off of her sweaty forehead, I had to go back to the facts and quit worrying about the things I couldn't see. It didn't stop me from questioning my aptitude as a parent, but as I filed through the facts in my head, whatever it was that was consuming my child in the darkness didn't feel as threatening.

While sitting there, I found it ironic that I was comforting, commanding some sort of order in the circumstance, while still feeling inept. There are some things that are just ingrained in us. Instincts. I have always been amazed at the motherly instinct, the knowing of things that were otherwise unpracticed. I was not a babysitter. I hated babysitting. I didn't have any previous experience. When I was pregnant with my first, I would waver between courage and wondering if I would do okay. Recently, while looking at job opportunities, I was convinced that no one else could do my job of mom as well as I do. One night of illness took me back to wondering about my certifications even though all of my instincts kicked in. 

I know it is not the first time that this will happen in the course of being mom. Every stage and every year is different. But I do know that the compass of my heart will continue to point me back to what I know and that incredible knowing that was instilled deep inside when I became Mom: Instinct. It's easy to get carried away with what if. When the lights turn on, everything looks normal again. Sometimes we just have to take a breath, remember the facts and not let the unknown cause undue worry.