What If?

What is it about becoming a parent that releases all kinds of irrational fears? I remember when my children were perfect, healthy babies. I used to check on them often when they were sleeping. Not just look at them, but put my hand on their back. And if I couldn't feel the subtle rise and fall of the tiny back, I put my fingers under their nose to feel for the movement of air. Or even disturbed their sleep just to see them move. "What if she stops breathing? What if he chokes on spit-up? What if the furnace is leaking poisonous gas and I don't know it?!"
And if, by some miracle, they survived babyhood, I just knew I was going to damage them psychologically. Will she remember how I yelled at her because she peed in the floor for the 10th time the first day we tried potty training? Will he be forever scarred by my making him cry himself to sleep in his crib because everyone knows your child should learn to sleep in their own bed. What if I raise a brat by buying her name brand clothes? What if he has low self-esteem because I DIDN'T buy name brand clothes?
It doesn't get any easier, you know.
Just now, Hillary got in the car and backed out of the driveway. This happens every day - usually several times a day. And she always comes back, safe and sound. But in this moment, I wanted to jump in front of the car and say, "Wear your seatbelt....or...on second thought...just don't go. Stay here where I can keep you safe." Of course, that's an illusion. We can't really keep our children safe any more than we can keep ourselves safe.
So I finished loading the dishwasher, and she drove away. And life goes on.
So far, so good.