fear.

Fear about whether I have not adequately bonded with my little boy because of breastfeeding issues, hospital stays, and assistance from family members.

Fear that he will not trust me because I allowed him to go through pain.

Fear he will be behind because of weeks of sedation.

Fear when I go back to work he won't love me, or love his daycare provider more than me.

Fear that I am just not good enough. That I will mess up on his medications, miss an appointment, miss a cue that there is a serious problem with his health.

Fear that I won't get any sleep.

Fear that if I stop pumping his nutrition will suffer.

Fear that if I continue pumping it will take time away from time we could spend together.

Fear that his sternum won't heal properly.

Fear that life will never, ever go back to normal.

And so, I just have to say, these are the fears that have been bombarding me. The fears that keep me up at night. The fears that cause me to be on edge, get me into arguments with my husband. Lately, I have been dwelling on all of these fears. I have tried to let go, but it's hard.

And yet, this little boy. I push past those fears for him. To the point of feeling consumed by them I still push past them. I have to. I can't have a happy life, I can't be happy, if I live in fear. I have a long, long way to go, mind you. But I am trying. I will always keep fighting.



I fight for you, little boy.

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