The photo was taken at the Raleigh airport. They have an amazing observation deck that allows kids and adults to see the planes take off and land. We had just dropped Daddy off to head home and we stopped here for a few minutes with our friend Davis. This is a regular stop for Davis and Beverly. The deck is about one story off the ground, and has the protective railing you see in the photo. Quinn was so excited to see the planes and to jump and run on the platform. At one point he even dangled his foot through the railing. It was at that moment that I am pretty sure my heart stopped for a moment. Taking the photo you see here was about as far away from him.
My heart would like to wrap him in a bubble forever. My brain knows that he has to learn to explore the world and take risks. He's going to get hurt and he needs to know that I will be there to dust him off and encourage him to try again. He's had his share of bumps and bruises already- the joys of early walking. It's not the little things that worry me- it's the big things. As I saw him dangle his foot, my brain knew he wouldn't fall, but my heart immediately went to the worst case of him falling to the ground. The same is true when he races to the big kid playground equipment and climbs to the top. (That would be a lot easier if the would take the slides down instead of insisting on climbing back down!)
While I am sure all parents have these worries, I think those of us who have dealt with infertility feel it with a different set of lenses. I spent years preparing myself for the worst possible scenario as we went into each new treatment cycle or adoption situation. It was easier to mentally prepare for the worst and then be surprised if the worst didn't happen. Of course, we had too many times where the worst did happen. It's a mind set that I keep using in every situation that has a potential to be challenging. It has served me well at times, but I fear it is now tainting my parenting.
So it's all about balance. I can't change my internal protective shield, but I can change the way I express it to Quinn. I'm working on quieting that screaming heart racing lunatic in my heart, and keeping her tucked safely in my soul. I don't want to be a helicopter parent, and more than anything I worry about sheltering him too much. He's already got to deal with having older parents and being an only child. I don't want to fall into the stereotypes those two categories often perpetrate. I want him to take risks and learn and grow, and I hope that I can also learn and grow as I watch him.
Anyone else having the same struggle? Thoughts?
