It had only been a couple of months since I, hugely pregnant, had driven for hours to be there for my dear friends as they buried their precious baby girl. That day that will forever be etched into my memory.
How was this all happening? In our childbirth class they had told us over and over how resilient babies are and how we tend to believe they are far more fragile than they really are. Now my little boy looked like the most fragile thing this world had ever seen!
This is where it all began. The life sucking, soul deadening, torture called anxiety.
I hid it pretty well for a while. Even from myself. I figured it must be normal first time mom stuff. Especially for a first time mom who knew pretty much nothing about babies. Plus my son had Reflux and severe Jaundice so obviously I had to stay up with him every moment and attend to his every need! Right? I stayed up with him all night, every night, then would pass him off to my husband at 6am so I could sleep for a couple of hours before he had classes and work.
Then summer hit. Summer sales, where my husband would often leave by 8 or 9am and return home around midnight. We lived on the opposite side of the country from everyone I knew, I had no car and there was nothing for miles. Little man and I had endless bonding time- and I had endless time to consider every terrifying scenario my imagination could conjure.
All still seemed fine from the outside looking in. Until one night my husband returned home to find me hysterical. Now, anyone who knows me well knows that if I'm crying something is seriously wrong! I usually cry about semiannually, so to find me crouched on the floor next to our sleeping son, my husband automatically thought the worst. Once he realized our son was perfectly fine, he was relieved...and confused.
With extreme effort I managed to calm down just enough to try to explain between sobs. What if something goes wrong? What if something happens to him? What if...(I trailed off in too much agony to speak).
The times I managed to fall asleep, I would wake up frantic at least a dozen times a night and dart to my son. I would check his heartbeat and his breathing. Every. Single. Time. I would look him over, do my analysis and head back to bed, terrified of sleep. Because sleep was the enemy. It was the one time I couldn't be right there to intervene if something bad were to happen. Sleep was what scared me the most.
So why have I told you all this? What's the point of my painful story?
Well, that phone call from my mom that turned my world upside down was six years ago this weekend. I always struggled with my niece's birthday in the past. It reminded me of every fear and moment of relentless terror I've experienced during the years of constant anxiety. It reminded me of the darkness and panic attacks and fear of all the ways I can't protect the ones I love most.
But this year was finally different. Although I still have plenty moments of fear, I'm new. I'm different. I've grown. This beautiful niece whom I can't wait to meet someday has helped show me where to turn when things seem most dark. She has shown me who loves my kids as much as I do and who can be with them every moment that I cannot.
I will probably always be considered a rather protective mom (I do still check on them every night before I can head to bed after all) but through my years of battling the darkness of anxiety I have learned that nothing good comes from the darkness. Everything good this world has to offer comes from the light. God is the source of every good gift and he is the light of the world.
Every time I feel myself sinking into the depths of despair and fear I think of the apostle Peter walking on the water with Christ. As Peter looks around and is afraid, he starts to sink. But Christ, in love and compassion, reaches out to save him as he speaks the words "Oh thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?"
I always felt Christ's response was a reprimand, but through these difficult few years I have come to see this exchange in an entirely new light. I believe Christ's words are as kind, loving and compassionate as he himself is. I believe his words are to say, "I wish you could see yourself as I see you. I wish you could comprehend what you are capable of, if you just put your faith in me." And I believe he is saying the same thing to each of as we struggle and feel our trials are pulling us under.
We are capable of more than we can possibly comprehend, if we would just put our faith in him. We can move mountains, part the sea, or conquer the anxiety that seeks to destroy us.
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