My Dear Garrett,

My Dear Garrett,
Mama is a worrier. I have been my whole life. When I was a little girl, Grammy use to buy me "worry dolls." These tiny dolls lived in a little oval bamboo box, and every night I would whisper to them all my worries and they would take my worry from me and do the worrying for me. I need to see if I can find some of those dolls, because baby, I need them. I have worried about everything about you from even before you were conceived. Worried I wouldn't be able to get pregnant with you, worried something would go wrong with the pregnancy, worried that I wouldn't be able to breastfeed, that I would have to have a c-section, that I wouldn't know what to do when you were born, that the nursery wouldn't be just right, that the car wouldn't have enough airbags, that the careseat wouldn't be installed properly, that the stroller wouldn't ride smoothly enough. You get the point. And now that you're here, and I have come to know a love that is deep in the marrow of my bones, and well - the word *worry* doesn't even seem to come close to adequately describing what I feel. The terror and panic at the thought of something happening to take you away from me. Of me not doing right by you. Of you being exposed to this world full of cruel and harsh realities. And it just scares.me.to.death.

I know that one day I will no longer be your favorite woman in the world, I know you will eventually want your space. I know you'll go to school with kids that are mean and you will get your feelings hurt. I know there will be times when you feel disappointed. I know that one day you will get a drivers license and I'll have to turn you out on the roads with others that text and drink and distract. I know one day you'll fall deeply in love only to get your heart broken. And I know one day I'll be the mother-in-law to your wife. I want to hold you in my arms and shelter you from everything forever. I want to be able to always be able to see you on the baby monitor screen - to see your little tummy and lungs breathe air in and out. And if I can't quite *trust* your image on the screen, I want to be able to run into your room and find you there sleeping peacefully in your crib. I want to be able to do this forever. But deep down, I know that's not possible. I know that you have to live life and experience it all - joy, laughter, humor, pain, hurt, heartache. My prayer for you is that in your life, you come into more sweet stuff than anything else - and that when you don't, you'll know where to turn to for a hug, that you'll do the *right* thing, that you'll weather the storm.

My prayer for me is that I can find some worry dolls.

I'll love you forever,
Mama