I still have moments of sheer panic.

A couple weeks ago I was standing at the sink and Makena was dropping her bath toys into the empty tub. We were about to take a bath, but I hadn't started the water yet. She was undressed though, and I heard her whimpering and saying, "Ehhhh! Ehhhh!" and I ignored her for a second but it quickly turned into "EHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I turned around and she had half fallen into the tub and was stuck. Her naked belly was pinned on the metal shower door rail and her head was tipped into the tub while her legs were sticking straight out. I turned her right side up and she was crying and had a long red mark on her stomach. :( I think she'd been trying to reach for a toy in the tub and flipped into it but not all the way down so she was stuck.

I've been thinking about it a lot.

What if I had started the bath water? What if I hadn't drained it after a bath? What if it was the toilet?

When Makena was first born the "what if's" almost paralyzed me. Heck, when she was still in utero it was hard enough!! I'm a worrier, what can I say. I want to be prepared for the worst.

The worst happened on that day in February when she had a febrile seizure and lost consciousness. It haunts me that for some mothers, that is the end. One moment they are holding their baby, singing a song, and the next thing they know their child is gone forever. But for us, Makena was okay. It was terrifying, but she was okay. I saw a tv story about a woman who lost her daughter when she was 13 months old, in a freak accident. Makena was 13 months old when her ordeal happened. And we're lucky. We're SO lucky that THAT is the worst for us.

Every day is with Makena is pure joy. Sure there are tough days, lately she has been clingy and fussy and wants to nurse 24/7, but even the "hard" days are a million times better than any day before she was part of our lives. I might complain about how frustrating it is that she doesn't nap or sleep well, but really, in the grand scheme of things, we are so blessed.

Yet I can't stop the horrid thoughts of all the "what if's." Once when Makena was about 8 months old I was laying in bed with her while Pam was at work, and I heard the front door open. I brushed it off as just a crazy paranoia, surely the door had been locked. Then I heard footsteps. I told myself it was just the cat. I listened harder. There was nothing. I was just being crazy. But then I heard a noise in the livingroom, and I thought about my baby sleeping next to me and my eyes flickered to the window. We are on the 2nd floor, but if I had to drop her out of the window to save her, I'd do it and hope someone would find her in the lawn below.

I listened again and breathed a sigh of relief when I knew for certain there wasn't an intruder. Then the bedroom door was pushed open a crack and Pam gave me a silent hello wave.

I froze for a second. There WAS someone the whole time. I wasn't crazy.

Scenarios like that happen way more frequently than I wish. I will be pushing Makena in the stroller on a walk to the park and a car will loud music will drive by and I'll imagine them reaching for a CD and losing control and the car will come barreling into us. I can be watching Pam carry Makena down the stairs and see them tripping and tumbling down onto the concrete. Actually sometimes I'LL be walking down the stairs with Makena and imagine that.

The other day I was at work and Pam was home with Makena. We had sent a few texts back and forth like we always keep in contact most of the day. I never got a reply to my last text, and when I got in the car an hour later I sent a text saying I was on my way home, like we always do. And as I started to drive home I was thinking of how odd it was to not have a response in over an hour. So I tried calling. No answer. I sent another text. I tried calling again. At first I reasoned that Pam must not be hearing the phone. Maybe she left it inside and they were playing on the grass. Maybe the battery had died. But I couldn't stop pressing re-dial and pleading that she'd answer the phone and calm my fears. Yes, maybe she simply didn't hear the phone, maybe she didn't realize it was on silent. But what if she was dead?

Sounds drastic, I know, but I was panicking. In my mind I saw Pam and Makena passed out from a gas leak, sprawled on the floor. I saw them bloodied at the bottom of the stairs. I saw them as victims of a serial killer. I saw them in black bags being pushed into coroners trucks. I raced home in tears, I passed 2 (TWO!!) car accidents on my way, and I fully expected to find an ambulance when I turned on my street. I never stopped hitting re-dial. I left a couple of panicked voice mails for Pam, and imagined myself listening to them on her phone days later after finding out I had no family left anymore.

I was about to get home when Pam sent me a text message telling me to calm down, everything was fine. I walked in the door and hugged my baby close. They had been busy playing and for some reason she hadn't gotten my texts or calls until right before the moment she texted me back. I looked at her phone and it was true, but compared with my phones history, it didn't make sense.

Needless to say, I overreacted. I know that. But that day COULD have been the end. People all over the world have to live through the reality that their children and loved ones will never come back. I'm terrified of having to say on a talk show some day, "I never expected it to happen to me." Because while I certainly don't expect it, I do think about it. I don't want to be caught thinking that I never saw it coming. Just like when I was pregnant, and afraid that something happened to the baby. I wouldn't feel any movement, and I'd immediately think the worst. If I could go back in time I wish I could have simply enjoyed my pregnancy more. I loved being pregnant. I hope desperately that I can be pregnant again. But sometimes I was so anxious that it really took away from me having a blissful pregnancy.

It's exhausting when these waves of paranoia happen. Luckily it's not constant, otherwise I think I'd need to be committed because it would literally drive me crazy. And I did think I was completely off my rocker and alone in having these awful thoughts until Pam confessed she has the same flashes of falling down the stairs or a random drive-by shooter.

But as scary as it is, I remind myself that I can't continue to live my life if I let myself be debilitated by bad imaginings! So I let myself think the bad thoughts, and then I consciously push them away. It's almost like I tell myself this in my head- Okay, I thought of the worst case scenario, so I am not going to be blind sighted if this comes true. I want to focus on this moment right now though, so I'm making the choice to stop thinking bad things.

And sometimes that works. Other times I just have to get home as quickly as possible and hug my baby.