Handle with Care

One thing that is very different about being a mom to Gracie than being a mom to Rip is that I am much more afraid of death.  With Rip, even though I would have given anything to change it, I knew it was no longer my job to take care of him.  Gracie's life is very dependent on mine.

I never really feared for my own life before, which is actually kind of selfish, but I've always been pretty confident in where I was going after I died and while I certainly don't want to rush things, the idea of somebody I loved dying was always so much scarier than my own mortality.

But now I have this little life that depends on me so much.  And of course she also has a Daddy that is every bit as important...but I'm the Mama.  I have the shoulder that is perfect for napping.  I have that famous intuition.  Whether I am right or not, nobody does it just like me.

So it's scary.  I feel like I should be walking around with  "Fragile- Handle with Care" stamped on my rear (actually, there is probably ample padding there, maybe on my ribs).

Being a mother makes me feel powerful and oh so vulnerable at the same time.  One minute I know exactly what to do and the next I am right back in the deep end of the water.  It's a job that I am honored and grateful and privileged to have...it's a job to be handled with care.