I was a born worrier. Can any of you relate? As a child, I can remember being so worried that if my parents were late coming home from an outing, I was sure they had been in some terrible car accident.
Fast forward to my mid-thirties when my daughter was a year old. I hadn’t made much progress in the worry department when I took her in for her wellness exam. The very young Physicians Assistant informed me (without the least bit of EMPATHY) that my baby girl had a condition called “Failure to Thrive.” I immediately feared the worse when she said my baby needed to be tested for Cystic Fibrosis ASAP.
For those of you who don’t know, Failure to Thrive is a condition where the child is not growing according to normal height and weight charts. I knew my baby was small and not interested in eating but she was extremely bright, she had advanced speech and had been walking for two months. If only I had used common sense, I would have realized there was not a problem, but my worrying mind took over, along with the guilt. I began to blame myself for being a working mother even though I knew she was in an excellent childcare situation. After all, “failure” was right in the name, so I must have failed her.
Well, you’ve probably guessed by now that my baby was fine. She was just small and not interested in food. We took her to a wonderful pediatric gastroenterologist who taught us the ingenious trick of adding cream and butter to anything she would eat. By the way, she is now a thriving 22 year old doing quite well and just graduated Summa Cum Laude.
A lot of us are filled with worry in the midst of these crazy Covid times. I still struggle to tame my worry wart nature, but I am much better because of the hope I have in Jesus. I wish I had back all the hours I’ve spent worrying over my lifetime but I also believe that those countless hours taught me something and I’m not looking back. Remember this, “FEAR is false evidence appearing real.” If you’re a chronic worrier, I’m here to tell you, with faith, it does get better. Read your Bible, practice gratefulness, and try to remember that 99.9% of worries never come true.
So for all of you worry wart grandmas and mothers out there, hear me out. As the author Richard Carlson so eloquently said, “Don’t sweat the small stuff” and guess what? It’s almost all small.
Love,
Nana Alison