I’ve been talking about fear tonight and how grief and fear seem to go hand in hand.
C.S. Lewis said “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.”
I understand what he meant.
Grief has made me feel constant fear for Gabriel, my almost 3 year old.
At the weekend, I was at a party and I noticed Gabey had a red looking rash on his face. I immediately panicked. “HE’S HAVING AN ALLERGIC REACTION!!!” I shouted at my parents. I had visions of him collapsing and not being able to breathe. My brain went into crazy mummy overdrive and as I started hyperventilating, a baby wipe around his mouth cleaned off the ketchup.
No rash. Just ketchup.
What an idiot I felt but this is becoming the norm for me. I have gone completely bonkers over his safety since I lost Elijah. Imagine the panic when I saw his arm covered in what looked like big bruises, only to discover (after almost calling 999) that it was simply blue marker pen from nursery!
I’ve also made my husbands life a misery.
I quiz him incessantly, like some sort of Health & Safety nutter, everytime he wants to simply take him to the park.
“HOLD HIS HAND AT ALL TIMES!!!” I scream at them both as they walk outside the house. I had a complete mental breakdown the day he wanted to take him to the Post Office. Crying, shouting, the full works.
I seem to have transferred all of my fears onto my toddler and his little shoulders are far too small to carry it all. In complete contrast I have no fear for my own wellbeing. I couldn’t care less what happens to me. What I went through on that day has made me numb and tough. As if being from Essex hasn’t made me tough enough, birthing a breech baby, while bleeding from an abruption, with no pain relief, will surely do it.
Eleanor Roosevelt said “Do one thing every day that scares you”, but what do you do if it is, in fact, every day that scares you? Every day I’m scared that whoever or whatever took Elijah from me, will decide that’s not enough and take Gabey too.
That’s my Fear Factor.