Let Go.

So let go, jump in
oh well, whatcha waiting for
it's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown;
so let go, just get in
oh, it's so amazing here
it's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown.
                                   from Let Go by Frou Frou


When I was in my twenties (which wasn’t that long ago…really), procreating was not a priority. In fact, at one time, for three years to be exact, I was adamant against having kids. My stint as a restaurant manager pretty much took care of any ticking biological clocks where, day after day, I witnessed countless little monsters who paid no heed to the conviction-light, half-assed reprimands of their parents or nanny as they bobbed and weaved between busy servers carrying hot soup and stopped revolving doors on potential diners. For them, hilarity ensued; for me, it was a tiny slice of hell because, of course, should they slip and fall or be scalded by Tom Yum, it would be our fault.

When coughcough30cough came along, the baby alarm rang, and the turmoil began. I knew I wanted kids but at the same time, I was also confronted with all of the worst fears – I’d love this little being with my life but what if something happens to my baby? How will I, can I, go on? I’ll only want “what’s best for them” (gee, haven’t heard that before) but I have very set ideas on how to achieve that, including how they should behave, develop, etc. so of course there’s a big chance they will hate me—how do I wage a daily good vs evil battle and still nurture, teach, and raise them to become decent human beings?

Well, now that I have Little Miss, not only did it not answer my questions or quell my fears, it actually created a whole new brand of crazy for me. For example, just before our trip to Toronto (our first trip sans baby when she was six months old) I obsessed about what would happen to Little Miss should we board the one plane that took a nosedive into Lake Ontario from technical malfunction. Who would care for her? I couldn’t get on the plane until I had a living will created, as well as a “Dear Little Miss, if you’re reading this letter…” written. Dramatic. I know. I’m not usually easily given to hysterics but it helped me enjoy our weekend a little better, knowing there was a contingency plan for her. But how did I arrive here?

Oh right. I had a baby. But please, don’t think this is stereotypical of all moms. In my defense, it’s important to have a living will, but freaking out about it on the eve of my trip was not my best move. I continue to stress about the little things every day, naturally, but I realize now that it’s par for the course. While there’s no chance that my fears will dissipate, I’m just glad that they did not stop me from having her.

I have to remember that life is unpredictable and things will not always go my way, but it’s OK. Little Miss will fall, she will bleed, she will eat cat hair (and she has), and she will break my heart.

Sometimes, I just have to let go. It will be alright. Even amazing. ‘Cause there’s beauty in the breakdown.