Now that I’m a Mom, I feel more fragile, more vulnerable.
On one hand, from the moment I became pregnant I knew I was more powerful than I ever realized. I harnessed the strength to carry a baby and give birth. No small feat. Right? And then I did it again two years later, without an epidural. Yes, I know I’m a strong woman now for sure.
On the other hand, I sometimes feel vulnerable. I can be strong all I want. But I can’t defend myself, my husband or my children against the things I am powerless over. Like, I worry, particularly if I let my mind wander, about random awful things happening.
Does that happen to you, too?
It’s not like I walk around looking over my shoulder or avoid leaving the house. These thoughts don’t prevent me from living a full, fun, adventurous life. But when I go about my daily business, it occurs to me, that our lives are fragile. That crazy, unexpected things happen all the time and sometimes those outcomes are catastrophic.
My Mother’s father died when she was two, and my fear is likely linked to her experience. The ripple his death left in her family was something they didn’t ever seem to shake.
Hurricane Andrew, that cab driver, 911, my sister’s ex, the 2004 tsunami… are just some of the “too close” moments I’ve had, and they flicker in my psyche, reminding me not to take any day for granted.
But my worries are also anchored in the everyday stories of families that are blindsided by tragedy.
I know I’m really running with this fear stuff, and it’s probably because we’ve been procrastinating with getting our wills done. We have two children and we haven’t designated a guardian.
I know. It’s terrible.
More than terrible.
For fuck’s sake. Of all things to procrastinate on. It’s driving me crazy.
It’s NOT making a choice that’s worse than MAKING a choice. And as it stands today, if anything should happen to both of us, the court system would make this choice for us. It’s giving me agita.
One thing I know for sure is, I can’t die. Not that I ever thought I could before. But the thought of ANYONE else raising our children makes me want to cry… in fact it already has. And at some point, we all just have to swallow that awful pill, realize that NO ONE could ever do it like we would, and let the topic go.
I need help.
What have you done about this? Have you and your partner disagreed? If so, how did you come to common ground? What have you learned? Do you even have a will yet?
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