Worry just goes with the job of being a mother

It's a mom's job to worry. Right now, my own mom is driving me crazy because of how worried she is about me and my blood pressure, but as someone told me yesterday, it's her prerogative as a mother to worry.

Yes, I'm still pregnant, and yes, my blood pressure is continuing to go up but goes down when I rest. However, all my blood work and urine tests are normal, and the baby is looking good on ultrasound. So, for now, we are trying to get to 37 or 37 and a half weeks pregnant. By the time you read this, I will be 37 weeks, plus a few days. As my blood pressure rises, so does my mom's anxiety.

The other day someone on an Internet parenting board said they thought the worrying would end when the baby was born. I wanted to laugh. Even though I worried so much throughout my pregnancy with my 6-year-old Tessa and throughout this pregnancy (and probably a little more than normal with this one since we lost our last baby), I never knew what kind of worry I would face after she was born.

A friend of mine said she spoke to her child's pediatrician a few weeks after the baby was born about the worry she felt. The pediatrician laughed and said, "The obstetrician delivers your baby and then he stuffs your uterus full of worry and guilt. Get used to it."

I think the doctor might be onto something. When we first brought Tessa home, I slept in the living room with her. She slept in the bouncy seat, while I slept on the couch. If I didn't hear a noise from her every few minutes, I would roll over and feel her stomach to make sure she was breathing. One night, she choked. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. I screamed for my husband Brian, who came running, and as soon as I put her upright, she stopped. It wasn't even that close a call, but I was still scared.

I thought the worrying would end when she moved past the point where crib death or Sudden Infant Death Syndrome could happen. Again, I was wrong. It was an all new set of worries. What was she putting in her mouth? Why wasn't she doing this when the book said she should? How could I let her explore without allowing her to get hurt?

We came to a happy medium, and I tried so hard not to be a helicopter parent, the type that hovers, but it was really hard. I again thought the worry would end when she was older, so she could tell me what was happening, but again I was wrong. It's a different set of worries. I worry about bullies on the playground, people hurting her feelings. I worry about first sleepovers, homework, playing outside alone ... I could go on and on.

I'm sure as the years go by, we will find even more to worry about. Boys, driving, teenage sex, drinking. I just finished a section in my Developmental Psychology course about teenagers and their inability to control their risk taking. When I read that, I could see worrying myself sick whenever Tessa or Ella will be alone as teenagers. I just hope I'm able to give them a firm and grounded enough foundation to counteract that inability.

I've since come to realize that when you are a parent, the worry never ends. It's always there, even when your little one is an adult. You always want your children to be happy, healthy and whole, and when something is going on to keep your child from achieving that, you worry. I wish my mom didn't worry, because her worry makes me stress and increases my anxiety, but I know as a parent, she has the right to do so. I would probably be doing the same way if this was happening to Tessa or Ella when they are adults.

As much as the worry stresses a parent out, it's totally worth it, especially when you look back at all the love, hugs and kisses you receive from them. Nothing beats that.

-- Tamara Belinc is a freelance writer for the Times-Gazette.