I’ve always felt old beyond my years. Some children are free spirits. I was not. I was the serious type, always concerned about one thing or another. My parents are worriers and I wonder if I was born this way or if their behavior changed me. I never gave that idea much thought until I had a child of my own. Now as I watch my son I think a lot about who he is and how my actions may change him. I wouldn’t say I worry about it, but I certainly think about it a lot.

I am a worrier. As someone who often felt shy I worried about making friends, fitting in and feeling comfortable in my own skin. I remember reading the class rosters that came out every August and counting the number of classmates I already knew. Oddly enough I never had trouble making friends and despite my fears I often befriended the new kids and exchange students who transferred to our school. Everything always worked out alright.

Throughout my school years I constantly worried about my grades. I had a competitive streak and hard-working drive that made me crave straight As and positive recognition from my teachers. My worries were always unfounded. Throughout the years I always received near perfect grades.

During my teenagers years I constantly worried that I would never find love. I was always tall, finally topping out at 6’1” and little old ladies would often tell me men wouldn’t want to marry someone taller than them. During one very short elevator ride a woman told me men would find it unnatural to marry someone who looked down physically upon them. That woman whose name I don’t even know impacted my self esteem for years. I worried that I would never find love, but eventually married a man who is about two inches shorter than I am. He was never concerned about the height difference and as a result neither was I.

In my mid-twenties I ended up in the emergency room with a pulmonary embolism. As doctors failed to diagnose the cause of my clot I worried that I wouldn’t survive and that I would die of an incurable disease. It took many months to receive a diagnosis and many years to recover, but once again my worries were completely unfounded. If I didn’t tell you about my medical history you would never know that anything had happened to me.

During the time I was sick I worried that I would die, but oddly enough I worried more about the fact that I would never have children. I remember holding back tears as I walked through the neighborhood attempting to rebuild my strength and stamina. When I finally felt well enough to try to conceive I didn’t get pregnant easily.

Nearly six years after my embolism and recovery I now worried that I was too old to bear children. I constantly stared at the calendar dreading having my first child over the age of thirty-five. I got pregnant at thirty-three and delivered my son a few months after my thirty-fourth birthday. My pregnancy was easy. I was amazed that my body that always felt so broken was able to carry and deliver a child.

When my son was small I worried that his speech was delayed. I scoured the Internet for articles on speech delays and treatments. He reached all of his other milestones with such ease that I seemed stuck on the fact that he couldn’t seem to master this one. Since that time his language has exploded. In fact, he now speaks in longer sentences than any of his peers.

Lately I started to worry that we won’t have another child. It took us a year to conceive my son and many months have passed since we started trying for another. First I worried about whether or not it would happen and then I worried that even if it did happen the gap between my first and second would be larger than I ever expected.

On a walk to the playground I began to feel a bit overwhelmed with my worries. I looked deeply into the eyes of my son and forced myself to stop focusing on them. I realized two very important things. First, I am grateful for all that I have and am blessed beyond my wildest dreams. The world is filled with sob stories much bigger than my own. Second, when I started to reflect on all of my past worries I realized that everything worked out in the end.

In every instance I can ever remember things worked out just fine. I made friends, got good grades, found an amazing husband, healed, got pregnant and delivered the most amazing child. I don’t know if we will have another child or not, but I certainly need to focus more on my blessings and less on those things that I cannot control anyway.

2 thoughts on “Unfounded”

  1. I think a lot of people can relate to over-worrying. So many times it does work out, maybe not the way we want to, but the way we feel it was supposed to be.

    There’s that saying…everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.

  2. This literally made me cry – I do the exact same thing. I’m pretty much always worried about something and if there is nothing going on to actively worry about, I can easily come up with some safe standbys such as “what if I lose my job” or “what if I never lose weight”. I wish I could stop but it is such a part of who I am I don’t think I can. I’ve considered therapy for it but it would probably be a waste of time and money. At any rate, this rambling post is really just to say you aren’t alone, and I am glad you are able to realize that you do have many blessings in life, even if it has been a hard road to get there at times (I cannot imagine how scary the blood clot and time leading up to it must have been).


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