Worries

I recently learned that the son of a girl who attended Rhodes with me was critically injured in a freak accident in the home. Apparently, the little boy, who is around William's age, pulled a television set over onto him. By the time, the paramedics arrived, he was not breathing, but they managed to resuscitate him and rush him to the ICU at Vanderbilt.

When my friend Mary Clare relayed the news to me via email, I sucked in my breath in horror that something like that could happen. I actually felt my heart rate speed up. Then I had that urge to immediately check on William to make sure he's okay, the sour rush that shoots through my stomach and up my throat anytime I hear about something horrible that could happen to my own child. My next reaction was to feel intense sympathy and helplessness for the parents of that little boy. He is receiving excellent care, but I know they must be completely exhausted and traumatized.

David caught me staring at our big-screen television last night and said something to the effect that our TV is too heavy for a toddler to pull down. I guess he's right, but it still made me worry. So many things can happen that we can't anticipate. I never fully appreciated that before I had a child, but now it never completely leaves my head. Even when I'm not consciously thinking or worrying about something happening to hurt my child, it still stubbornly lingers there at the edges of my subconscious.

Is that something that accompanies parenthood? I guess I'd have to say yes. My parents say they still worry about me and my brother, and it finally makes sense to me. You can't control everything that happens, but by George, you can worry about it! I guess the things you worry about change over time, but the concern never goes away.

I hope the little boy in the ICU at Vanderbilt continues to make progress. I simply cannot imagine being in the place of his parents right now, but I ache for them.