Motherhood Monthly: Living in a State of MamAnxiety

I've always struggled with anxiety, but now that I'm a mom, I've become intimately acquainted with a new brand of anxiety--one that was programmed into my being when our ancestors were living in a dangerous world surrounded by predators, the elements, and poisonous plants--MamAnxiety. 

This kind of anxiety is a turbo anxiety; it's anxiety on steroids. It causes a mother's brain to imagine the worst case scenario in every possible situation, even the most mundane.

For instance, the other night I was walking out the door to teach my Wednesday night yoga class. I didn't lock the door behind me as I usually do, because Ben and Charlie Mae were playing a few feet from the front door in the room I had just exited.

But as I walked to the car, I started to imagine what would happen now that I didn't lock the door. Ben wouldn't think to lock it before taking Charlie Mae up to bed, and while they were reading together, someone would sneak into our house, tip-toe up the stairs, and kill them both.

So I went back and locked the front door.  

Here's another example: 

Our washing machine is broken (every mom's dream) and the repair person can't come for a few days. Last night, we had a load of wet laundry (that had been only half washed before our washer gave out) soaking in the bathtub. As soon as Charlie Mae got home and walked past the bathroom door, I saw what would occur if I didn't drain the water stat: she would head into the bathroom and uncharacteristically try to climb into the bathtub to see what was happening with those clothes. Of course while climbing, she would immediately fall and drown in the dirty laundry and sitting water. It was a nightmare waiting to happen. 

If you're a mother, I know these inner dialogues and scenarios are familiar to you. I know you've seen these visions, too, whether you see them as frequently as I do or not. They're necessary for our species' survival over time and we're programmed for them, but they definitely aren't fun. 

Every new mom that I've spoken to has had the vision of dropping her newborn down the stairs as she trudges, sleep-deprived, up and down them. I'm sure many mothers have imagined dropping a knife and accidentally stabbing a child, or tripping and flinging a child into a sharp object that immediately impales said child. 

It's pretty gruesome, but this is what happens in a mama's brain. Or, at least, in this anxious mama's brain. 

At times, I'm thankful for this MamAnxiety. I think it really does help me keep my daughter safe and think about what could happen before it happens [and thus, prevent it]. 

But at other times, I'm resentful that I have to go about life imagining so many horrible disasters around every turn. That my husband isn't plagued by these same visions, that he isn't always looking two steps ahead and trying to prevent something bad from taking place. 

Then I look at my daughter and am reminded that she is the most important thing in my life, and as humans, when we have something that we really love and value, it's only natural to do what we can to protect it.

So I hug her, and I repeatedly move her away from pointy corners of furniture, tighten her seatbelt straps, and wrap my hands around her waist when she stands up in the bathtub. And then I thank my lucky stars that I was given this role to play in life, even if it is one that has caused me more anxiety than ever before.  

PS. Obviously this pic was taken over a year ago (look at how short and wonderfully chubby CM was!!!), but I feel like it accurately represents what I'm talking about here.