Because you're mine I walk the line.

I think Spiderman said it best: "With great power comes great responsibility."

And with great love comes great worry.

If there's a downside to the incredible, overwhelming, monumental, unbreakable love I have for my daughter, it's the worry. Everyone tells you, before you become a parent, that you're going to worry. People recite that quote, "To have a child is to have your heart go wandering around outside your body." Being a worrier by nature--and that's somewhat of an understatement--I believed it. I knew I'd be concerned about the well-being of my child. I just had no idea that it would be this acute, just like I had no idea the love would be this strong.

There are so many things to worry about. SIDS. Sickness. Accidents. Every day in the news, there are statistics about fatal diseases, stories of murders and strollers falling onto train tracks. Just today on MSN I read that 100 babies die from the flu every year. When I hold her, I could drop her. When she's sleeping, she could stop breathing. Anyone around her is a potential illness-spreader. We have to situate her right in the sling so she doesn't smother; we have to be careful bathing her so she doesn't slip; we have to maneuver her around with care so we don't hit her head or let it drop. Everything I do is an exercise in Making Sure She's Okay, which inevitably makes me think a lot about her Not Being Okay. And I'm not okay with her not being okay.

It's like: I want to be a super vigilant mom. I'm glad to be firm about holding her carefully, checking on her often when she's sleeping, not letting sick people visit, washing my hands frequently, not letting the cats go in her room, etc. I want to be careful and concerned and follow my maternal instinct in everything I do. She's a tiny baby; that's the way it should be. I just don't want to be so wracked with worry that I can't just relax and enjoy motherhood. I want to perform the actions necessary to ensure her health and safety without the emotional distress that accompanies those actions. When we're in the tub together for bathtime, I want to be thinking "Yay! Bathtime with my baby!" and not "Oh-god-don't-drop-her-don't-drop-her-don't-drop-her." Is that even possible? I don't know. I just know that the fact that something bad could happen to her and it's 100% my job to make sure it doesn't--it's a lot of pressure. And a lot of fear.

One of the things that amazed me about becoming a mother is how quickly I couldn't care less about myself anymore. I really couldn't. I have to force myself to think about my own health now and it's only because I need to be healthy in order to take care of her. All I care about is her. I would die before I would let a hair on her head be harmed. And that's a beautiful thing, that kind of epic love, but it's also a really scary thing. She depends on me for so much and I also have to depend on myself because I depend on her (and I just gave myself a headache). I always thought fear and love were polar opposites, but apparently they're just two sides of the same coin.

Is this normal parent stuff? Will I always feel this way? Will it get easier naturally or will I somehow find a way to get my baby business done without stressing about it? (Find out, on the next episode of Neurotic Mom!)

Sundries

• Josephina weighs almost 10 lbs now! She has quite the healthy appetite. My boobs can attest to that.
  
• She could hold her head and chest up at 2 weeks old. She's rolled herself over accidentally and can almost do it purposefully. When she's on her stomach, she tries to crawl. Not to brag but...pretty sure she's a genius.
• I feel so happy when someone asks if I'm breastfeeding and I get to answer yes. It may sound silly, but exclusively breastfeeding is one of my proudest accomplishments in life. It's been a really rocky road and it still isn't easy, but I'm doing it, and my baby is growing healthy and strong on my milk, and that's the best feeling ever.
• She already prefers her dad to me and it honestly kind of hurts my feelings. :(
• When she hears my voice her eyes get really wide and she looks up at the ceiling like she's hearing the voice of God. I'm thinking that her believing I'm God is a good thing.
• The girl loves attention. The other day Tim was holding her and admiring her and then he turned to his computer for a moment and she started screaming. When he looked back, she instantly calmed down and made her "I'm so cute" face. We're in for it.
• She has baby acne. It's harmless, common and temporary, but it makes me sad to see it on her beautiful face. She's still adorable, though. Our little pizzaface.
• Everyone says that nothing is gross when it's your baby. I'd have to disagree. She is cute; her projectile diarrhea is not.
  
• If anybody has any ideas for really fast and easy dinners, please share them! Grilled cheese and salad every night is getting really old.
  
• I've realized that when you have a baby, everything time you decide to do something, you decide not to do 100 other important things in its place. Sometimes I can either go to the bathroom or get a glass of water or brush my teeth; I can only do one so I have to choose carefully. Needless to say, posts here are probably going to be infrequent for that reason, but I'll keep trying to update when I can.
• Tim keeps coming up with rules for her. So far she's not allowed to be a Yankees fan, join the military, or ride in cars with boys as a passenger (she has to drive). He also mentioned something about a chastity belt. Poor kid.
• I'm horribly late on sending out Thank You cards. We've received so many incredible gifts, gifts with huge amounts of love and thought and time put into them; we've been blown away. If I haven't thanked you yet, I haven't forgotten, I swear!
• Tomorrow Jo is meeting my mom and Rick, her grandparents, for the first time! I hope her cuteness doesn't make their heads explode.