"That Scare You?"

Kevin has reached a new phase that has taken me by surprise. Though she's always been a bit jumpy, she is usually fearless and oblivious to anything that would normally terrify either of her parents (we're a little bit chicken). Over the past week or so, however, she has started to recognize fear as an emotion she feels. Any loud noise (even our relatively quiet vacuum cleaner), sudden movement, or passing animal makes her shake and come running to one of us as she asks, "That scare you?"

My usual response to this is to put my arm around her and talk about whatever has been scaring her. "No, that doesn't scare me. They are just doing some work on the hospital and it gets kind of noisy." or "No, you don't need to be scared of the dogs. They are in their yard and we don't have any dogs in our yard."

Still, fifty times a day I am being asked, "That scare you, Momma?"

Maybe, though, it is an appropriate question. No, I am not scared of vacuums or hammers or loud noises (I am not a big fan of dogs, however), but it seems like over the past week I have found more and more things to be scared about.

I am scared that the spike in my blood sugar means that something is wrong.
I am scared that these backaches aren't normal and might actually be preterm labor.
I am scared because I can't tell the difference between cramps and contractions since I never had a normal contraction before.
I am scared that my water is going to break early again and I just can't control any of it.
I am scared that this baby will come too early and premie boys don't do as well as premie girls.
I am scared for Kevin, and what will happen to her and who will take care of her if I suddenly end up on bed rest or in a hospital for weeks.
I am scared that this baby isn't going to be okay.

Mostly, I am scared of going back to Holland when we have been working so hard to get to Italy this time.

I remember telling friends in the months after we finally brought Kevin home from the hospital that it will take a lot more courage for us to have a second baby than it did for us to face the first. With our first, we had no idea what was going to happen, it just did, and there was some kind of bliss and comfort in our ignorance--we simply didn't know any better. Now I know what could happen and I am increasingly anxious because I don't know when it will happen, but I fully expect it to.

That scares me.

I keep telling myself, and God, and this baby that all we need to do is make it to 32 weeks. I know we can survive having a baby at 32 weeks (we've done it before). And although I don't really want a baby in July (we have too many July babies in our family already), quite frankly I would be ecstatic if we made it past 34, or 35, or 36 weeks.

I just don't know if my nerves can hold on that long.

There is a reason, I think, that we are told that great truths come from the mouths of babes. There is also a reason, I think, that Kevin has started having this "scared" phase...it is to remind me that it is okay to be scared sometimes, and it is okay if the things that scare us seem silly to others.

And sometimes asking, "That scare you?" is a nice way of sharing our fears with those we trust.

Because sometimes all you really need is someone to put their arm around you and say, "it is scary, but you will be okay."