Fearless

Being a mother, and becoming responsible for a tiny, helpless person's survival, is {well, duh} a major undertaking. Since becoming a mother, I've been introduced to a new kind of guilt and worry {and really, let's be honest, it started with pregnancy, before the baby was even born// it has something to do with being the protector of this tiny person. 
To me, it's worry on a larger scale than what I've known in the past {and looking back on my previous worries, I remind myself of a whiny teenager...}

These new feelings of {what should I call them? Maternal guilt?} usually centered around some item I had read about, which was the optimal way to carry a pregnancy//usually related to exercise, nutrition, stress, and anything else that may have a direct impact on the growing baby. 
So naturally, I proceeded to avoid all conflict at work {which is not easy in my profession}, for fear that confrontation would undoubtedly raise my blood pressure, and therefore lower my child's IQ {totally rational, righttt???}. I ate close to 7,000 hard boiled eggs, and 865 scoops of peanut butter, because I was paranoid about getting enough protein.  I fretted over the many spoonfuls of Nutella that I ate, because the sugar!! Was I giving my fetus a sugar high? Making her diabetic? Lowering her IQ still further?  Was I getting too little exercise?? {I walked miles at the end// my efforts to meet my Izzie sooner rather than later// but did very little, ie NOTHING during the other 2 trimesters} Or the fish and mercury problem! Did I have 2 servings of fish this week? Oh no! Did I unknowingly poison my child? Her IQ! Brain development!  Basically, I envisioned her being essentially perfect at the outset of her fetal journey, and saw my choices as either chipping away at this sacred perfection, or helping to further build it.  Completely healthy, right? I thought so.

Needless to say, I have learned to let go {a little bit}, and trust in God, and in others.  But this is still a work in progress.

Now that Isabelie is here, there are new ways to make myself feel guilty/bad/paranoid/unworthy.
On any given day, I feel guilty for sending her to daycare while I am at work 40 hours a week {if I had been more successful, I could've prevented this, right?}
// Guilty for wanting time to myself, even though I'm not with her for 40 hours out of the week
// Guilty for sometimes looking forward to her nap times
// Guilty for not spending every waking minute with her. 

Rational me knows that, in order to be healthy, and to be fully present and functioning optimally {for her} I do need time for just me.  Because caring for others constantly, at work and then at home, is positively draining.  And in order to be the best mom, wife, daughter, counselor, whatever, I do actually need some guilt free time just for me.  Without fear of being less than perfect.  And that's what I would like to teach my Isabel..
To be fearless.
 Like her mama?
Yes, like her mama.

XO 

Cassie