5 ridiculous things that I worry about

I like to think of myself as a fairly sensible person – I don’t get worked up over much and I generally think things through calmly and rationally.

Well it turns out that, when it comes to my little bundle of joy, I have become a bit of a lunatic and some of the most mundane things now seem like ‘death traps that want to eat my baby’. I mean, I realise that my concerns are 100% batshit insane silly, but that doesn’t stop  horrible scenarios from playing out in my head like a horror film every time I’m faced with one of these so-called ‘risks’.

1. The rubbish chute

I live in a building that includes about 50 flats and we all share a communal rubbish chute. It rises up through the floor of a terraced area like a large metal chimney and it has two openings, one on each level with a pivoting tray where the garbage is deposited. Close the hatch and the bags go down the chute.

The day after we came home from the hospital, hubby went to take out a bag of rubbish; I stayed inside with the baby in my arms. In the two minutes he was out of the flat, my imagination went into overdrive and I pictured myself headed towards the chute, but instead of a bag of rubbish that I sent down the hatch in this nightmarish vision, it was the baby.

It took me more than a month for me to go near the chute without experiencing fairly severe anxiety and I still quadruple-check that it is indeed a rubbish bag that I’ve hoisted up into the hatch before I close it. Even though I know baby is back in the flat safe and sound.

2. The sofa

A couple of days after arriving home from the hospital, I had a dream that I lost the baby between the sofa cushions. In the dream, I could hear her muffled crying and I could see bulges moving inside the sofa. Occasionally, a hand or foot would emerge from between the cushions, only to disappear again before I could reach it. No matter what I did, I couldn’t find her.

I eventually woke up in a cold sweat, leaped out of bed and raced over to her cot, where she was sleeping soundly. I watched her breathing for several minutes in the blue glow of her nightlight before going back to bed. Luckily, the dream didn’t leave me too traumatised and the sofa and I are still on good terms – although I am a bit leery of its between-cushion cracks.

3. The River Thames

I blame this irrational fear on hubby, because he first confided to that it was bothering him before I had considered it. But to be fair, it wouldn’t have taken long for my brain to go there as well.

So here’s the thing: currently, mobility isn’t our daughter’s strong point. Sure, if we left her in one place long enough, she might be able to squirm a few inches one way or another, but she’s not going anywhere quickly.

Add to that the fact that when we take her for walks along the river, she’s in a lay-flat pram with high sides. There’s also a balustrade separating us from the water.

Basically, there are many obstacles that our little one would have to get past before she ended up in the Thames. But hubby and I both have this ridiculous fear that she’s going to randomly fling herself out of her pram and fly into the muddiness below.

My absurd fear of baby’s sudden and unprecedented mobility is also behind this next one…

4. The bed

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Yes, baby falling off the bed is a real thing that I should certainly be worried about. But when I place baby in the centre of our king-size bed – with the duvet removed and pillows well out of reach – just so I can quickly change clothes or run to the loo, it’s unlikely that she’s going to fall anywhere. But that doesn’t stop me from worrying about it.

She’d have to suddenly learn how to turn herself over, then repeat the manoeuvre multiple times before she succeeded in tumbling to the floor.

While my concern is illogical, I also realised after a few freak-outs that it was stupid to put myself into the situation where I had to worry about it at all. Now, when I need put her down for a moment, I just plop her in the cot instead.

5. Dogs

… and cats… and hamsters. Basically, anything with teeth and claws.

I love animals of all types. I grew up around dogs, cats and horses, had countless pets as a child and worked as a veterinary nurse for several years. I know how to read animals pretty well and I am fully aware that the majority are completely safe to be around.

Of course, that doesn’t stop me from being wary of any animal that comes within a two-mile radius of me and my baby.

No joke, I was walking with her in her pram last week, and I caught myself eyeing up a sausage dog across the street as a potential threat. What is wrong with me?

‘What is wrong with me’ is probably a combination of sleep deprivation, hormones and momma-bear instinct to protect my young – the same things that made me want to curl up and never leave our house ever again in those first couple of weeks.

Of course, looking back over these, I suppose they all have at least *some* basis in reality. These days, I think my fear has decreased to a relatively sane level – but it’s never going to drop to zero. Maybe by the time she’s a teenager, I’ll stop worrying that she’ll be eaten by the sofa or a pug.

Do you/did you have any irrational fears for your child? Let me know I’m not the only one by sharing in the comments below.