My son turns 2 years old tomorrow and it just doesn’t seem possible. As a stay at home mom, I often think of the saying ‘the days are long, but the years are short,’ and I think this year I am finally understanding exactly what this means. The time has flown by, and I have no idea where the last two years have gone. I am so grateful to have been able to spend these past two years with Greyson. I’ve witnessed all his ‘firsts’ and cherished every snuggle and cuddle and I am so lucky to have had this opportunity.

I’ve cried every day and evening for the past 5 days and I can’t quite put my finger on what part of this milestone is making me so emotional. When I wake up tomorrow, I will officially have a 2 year old. A little person that walks around with a part of my heart. It’s an odd feeling having your heart walking around outside of your body, but the moment Greyson was born, a piece of me went with him.

Two years ago tomorrow my life was changed in the most incredible and amazing way. I don’t think I slept for three days straight after Greyson was born. I watched him constantly while he slept, making sure he was still breathing. I didn’t ‘sleep while the baby sleeps,’ I just worried. Sleep deprived and dealing with crazy hormones, I cried all the time. I was amazed at how much I could love this tiny person who I had just met. That intense love terrified me at the same time and I became obsessed with the thought that something bad was going to happen. I laid awake at night, made a million doctor appointments when I was convinced there was really something wrong – there wasn’t. And forbade anyone from carrying him down our stairs to the basement.

Now, I know this was just postpartum depression, but at the time I felt like I would never relax or really be OK again. I knew Greyson was the best thing that had ever happened to me, but I was also so scared. I rarely took him anywhere, I didn’t want to expose him to germs or people I didn’t know and I was totally and completely self conscious of my body. It was a tough time for me. I wanted to protect him from any and all things in the world that might possibly harm him.

I still feel this way. I worry about his future, his happiness, and his safety. Some nights I am paralyzed with fear thinking about the ‘what ifs’. There are a billion and one of them. But I don’t want to be that helicopter mom, always hovering, preventing any life situations from befalling my child. I want the world for him, as probably every parent does.

I asked my mom once how to get over this all enveloping worry and she replied ‘I considered all three of you kids as gifts from God, so I told myself I would appreciate every single day he let me borrow you.’ I try to remind myself this every time the anxiety and worry overwhelms me. So this is what I will do tonight as I put my baby to bed for the last time as a 1 year old – thank God for this precious gift and enjoy every single day that comes.

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