Worry and Motherhood. They go together like salt and pepper, sunscreen and beach days, and toddlers and tantrums. As mothers, we carry worry like a constant ache, and if we are not careful, our worries can derail our joy. I experienced this recently, as I celebrated the birth of my first grandchild, a little boy born March 10, 2023. Not 10 minutes after I first held him, I began to worry about this precious new life, and I nearly sent my joy into hiding.
When Worry Arrives
Worry arrives as soon as you realize that you are pregnant. Are you eating the right foods to ensure proper development? Did I have too many glasses of wine at the wedding reception before I knew? Has the baby moved enough this week? As your baby grows, your worries change and grow. We moms spend a lot of time wondering if our baby is hitting the right milestones, if our school-age children are participating in the right activities, if our teenager is really ready to drive, and if our college-age children are making good decisions.
Even when your kids reach adulthood, you worry. (I’m sorry, but it doesn’t end when they move out) We worry if they are thriving or surviving in that new job, if they are saving enough money, and if they are meeting people and building a life outside of work and school. There are so many ways to find worry.
Worry is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but it doesn’t get you anywhere.
-Erma Bombeck
If we can’t eliminate worry (at least I don’t think we can), the challenge, then, is to manage our worries. How you learn to manage it can set you free to find joy. For me, I have three weapons to fight worry with—my friends, physicians, and faith.
The Power of Friendship
When I was pregnant, What to Expect When You’re Expecting was the go-to reference for virtually every woman. And it was helpful, especially for me as I was pregnant and far from home and friends. Each month I could track my progress and understand better what was happening, but I didn’t have anyone to discuss what I was learning and to worry with me about all the changes. That is, until I found a pregnancy aerobics class that the hospital offered. There I found friends for that season of my life, and we supported and encouraged each other as we tapped our toes to Annie Lennox (it was the 90s).
I began to worry less, because I had a space to let those worries be shared. Over the years those groups of friends changed as I moved to preschool mom, then soccer mom, and then empty-nest mom. Now, I have a circle of friends whose children are having children, and we can share our worries for their grown-up lives. Friendship can be a force to power through worry.
The Wisdom of Doctors
I wish I could remember how many times I called my pediatrician after I brought my son home. To my memory, I called a thousand times with questions about his umbilical cord and his soft spot and his crying. But each time I reached out in worry, our doctor reached back with calm, factual reassurance that my child would be fine.
Today, with grown children, I still find it useful to refer to the doctor, but now I am sending them directly to their own physicians with questions when they worry. And I model that behavior by reaching out to my physician, often through the tele-health portal, to get reassurance when I’m worrying about some nagging ache, pain, or condition. The wisdom of doctors is a powerful antidote to worry.
The Reassurance of Faith
Perhaps my most powerful foe to fight worry with is my faith. I believe in a God that is bigger than me, that can support whatever worry I drop on his plate. That’s not to say you have to believe as I believe, but I am saying that believing in something besides my own self alleviates worry.
There’s a day I remember vividly when I had teenage/young adult children, and I just couldn’t take any more. I was worried about the youngest teen who was suddenly behaving so out of character, the middle teen who was acting evasively, and the oldest one who had graduated from high school and just left with no contact. I was consumed with worry and I went to the one place where I could have quiet–my church. It was a weekday afternoon and no one else was there, just me and the quiet presence of God. I spilled all my worries in prayer and tears, and I left feeling stronger in a strange way. By unburdening myself of worries and by letting faith support me, I could return to my family as a less-frantic version of myself. My faith lets me let go and let someone else worry.
A New Generation of Worry
As I held my grandson, for a few minutes all the worries I had ever carried for his dad, my son, disappeared. I looked in wonder at this baby who I never would have expected to be part of my son’s life. All the worry I had carried through the years for my son was forgotten with one miraculous arrival. Then, I thought, “now I have another person to worry about,” and I had to quickly reset my thinking to “now I have another person to love.” With love comes worry, but that will not overshadow the joy I have holding this baby and imagining all the wonderful things we will do together. I will continue to fight my worries with friendship, wisdom, and faith, and let joy be the highest priority. Well, joy and love.
