an⋅ni⋅ver⋅sa⋅ry[an-uh-vur-suh-ree] Show IPA noun,plural -ries, adjective
|1.||the yearly recurrence of the date of a past event: the tenth anniversary of their marriage.|
|2.||the celebration or commemoration of such a date.|
One year. It's been one whole year since I fell down the stairs carrying Noah and broke his leg. Even now, just typing those words, makes me feel anxious. Really, really anxious. It's difficult for me to remember that day. The screaming, the panic, the florescent lights in the waiting room, the heavy vests in the x-ray room, the tiny yellow gown for a tiny patient, the kind child welfare worker. It's all too much. I sat down to write this and I truly thought I would be able to talk about it calmly and peacefully because my baby is ok. He's fine. He's better than fine, he's doing great. Someday, February 5, 2009 will be just a blip in our memories, a day we bring up at family gatherings during a "remember when?" round and then laugh (I never will).
That accident changed me. It made me nervous. It made me anxious. I believe deep down that I am a good mother and a good person and accidents happen to good people every day. But I am not the same person I was before and I hate that. I hate that I don't feel competent in taking care of my child. I hate that I check, triple check, that Noah is in the backseat even after buckling him in because I am terrified of forgetting him somewhere (which, for the record, I have never done). I hate that every time he falls down and cries hysterically I think he's broken a bone or gotten a concussion or something far worse. I hate that I panic the minute he walks out of view of the camera in the childcare room at the gym and I immediately think someone's taken him. All of this because of that accident.
I know it could have been so much worse and I wonder if that's why I feel so anxious now. Like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to say. I am so grateful that Noah healed just fine with no lingering developmental issues. He's happy, he's healthy, he's extremely loved. But I just can't shake that nagging anxiety that something will happen to him under my care. This anxiety is preventing me from really moving forward with expanding our family because I worry that I am not capable of taking care of another small person. I hope that time does heal this in me. I need it to.
I am so sorry, Noah. I am so sorry I hurt you.