After Lucas was born, I was plagued by anxiety.   New baby, new house, new job role, challenges with Trevor.  No shortage of things that caused worry, or fear.

I described it as “noise.”  Lack of sleep significantly contributed to the noise.  When I did get a chance to sleep, it was hard to drift away from all of the noise.  Even clutter in my house/car/purse/email in box was noise since I could not focus on what to tackle first.  I could not quiet my mind down enough to be productive.

Luckily, babies grow and progress beyond the really needy stage, and they eventually figure out how to sleep.  Ish.  The noise is not as loud, but many of my fears are still present.   Here are some…

  1. I fear missing milestones, and sweet moments with my kids because I work.
  2. I fear receiving a cancer diagnosis.  Again.
  3. I fear outliving one/both of my kids.
  4. In my business, I fear that people will not take me seriously, or even take the time to hear about what I am doing because they think it is another “one of those businesses”.  This is paralyzing.
  5. I fear Spiders.  I am an equal opportunity arachnophobe,and loathe all kinds.   I appreciate individuals that feel the need to scoop them up and save them by setting them free outside, but in my home…”he gone.” Spiders are a main reason why I do not camp. Well, dirt also.
  6. I fear social situations that stretch my comfort zone.  Like…those ladies at the park.
  7. I fear the effects of chemicals in our air/homes, in products we put on our bodies, and in our food.  This fuels fear #2.
  8. I fear change.  My cheese has been moved both at home and at work several times in the last year.  Grumble.
  9. I fear that something I get rid of will be something that I NEEEEEED in the future.  Minor hoarding issue.  Not the intervention kind of hoarding (yet), but I could certainly account for a forest of trees with all of the mail, and paper, and WHY.DO.I.STILL.HAVE.THAT piles that are around.  My mother comes to hang with my kids on Thursdays, and she is constantly sorting/relocating my piles.  It is a problem.
  10. I fear my competency as a mom.  There are several things that contribute to this, but most of them are unfounded.  I know I need to be realistic and stop comparing.  I have come to know that being a mom is both the most rewarding, and the most challenging thing I have ever done in my life.

It was time to write out a few of my fears to get them out of the dark.  It is the beginning of taking steps to reclaim a bit of quiet.





Over the last several months, we have gone through a handful of evaluations for our son Trevor.  Doctors confirmed what we already knew; Trevor would require a bit of assistance in the areas of expressive language and gross motor development.

We are very grateful to have been presented with multiple options.  Our insurance was willing to cover a traditional therapy route of individual speech, physical and occupational therapy.  We were also fortunate to have been granted coverage through the government’s early start program.  Lastly we looked into holistic, neurological stimulation.  While any one of the options would have really helped Trevor, and would have produced results, we decided to combine a few of the choices that we believed met Trevor’s needs best.

On Tuesday of this week, Trevor began classes at a school in Redwood Shores as a part of the early start program.  This small group of 6-8 kids is led by a speech therapist, and consists of play-based language stimulation.  They rotate through stations, and transition with songs from one station to the next.  There is also a gym time which will stimulate his gross motor movement.  We picked this particular class because of the subtle language influence, and because they have peer modeling in place.  The location also has a pre-school, and kids from the preschool will cycle through Trevor’s class to model normal peer language skills.

When I dropped him in class on Tuesday, I had to STRONGLY fight the urge to tell the teachers all of the words and signs (or sign variations) that he uses to communicate.  I mean, how else would they know that “cwrass” means that he wants a snack?!?   I wanted to hang back a bit and make sure that he settled in ok, and help him make friends.  I was clearly the one with the hang-up, because Trevor turned around as soon as his shoes were off and said, “Bye Mom!”  I was the one that cried as I left.

I came back when class was over to pick him up, and had to strongly resist the desire to request a parent/teacher conference right there in the hall.  “So…when you say he did “great”, what is it that you really mean?  Like…did he learn stuff, and make friends, and participate in circle time?  Or…great…like did not cry and run for the door kind of great?”

Trevor’s development, and my anxiety have created a perfect storm of “helicoptering”.  I hover.  I anticipate his needs before he can try to verbalize.   I am only really beginning to understand the impact this storm is having on him.  How am I inadvertently holding him back?  He does not know or care that he is different.  He does not know he does not move as fast, or as well as other kids his age.  He does not know that he is difficult to understand.  These are labels that I am using to describe him, and  I have to wonder if he understands what it means when I tell other people that he is unable to do something, or that he is “delayed”.  This does not define him.  He is so much more than these labels, and he needs a Mama that is his biggest fan.

Here is the deal.  I have been entrusted with two tiny humans.  I am capable of being exactly what they need.  I know Trevor will do just fine.  He is, and will continue to thrive.  I may need to let him fall.  I need to get out of his way to let him grow.  Clearly, it is going to grow us both.