Fear

If you were going crazy, would you know it?

The thing is, I've been thinking about fear a lot lately. I could claim that it's a result of studying Gothic Horror fiction for the past few months, but I really don't think that's it. You see, a while back - I don't know how long, but it's less than a year, I witnessed something horrifying. Mr Earth, the Boy and I were taking the subway downtown, although I can't recall why. I was on the pay phone getting information about a book I had on hold, and Mr Earth was off to the side entertaining the Boy in his stroller. I was facing the escalator that we would be going down as soon as I got off the phone. I watched as a frail little old lady stepped onto the escalator. I watched as the lady went head first down the escalator. I listened to the descending cry of "ahhhhh!" as she fell to the bottom. If it had been a cartoon, I would have laughed, but it wasn't. It was real. It was surreal. I didn't know what to do and I froze. I sent Mr Earth down the stairs to see if she was okay, while I stayed with the Boy. I would have called an ambulance, but the TTC workers had already done it. Turns out that she got up and actually walked to a bench to wait for the ambulance. I was shocked because I was sure that result would have been different. It's been a long time since this happened, and I can still hear the sound of her scream.

Now, I see accidents everywhere. I'm afraid to walk down the stairs with the Boy in my arms because I think I'm going to fall. I'm afraid to drive with the Boy in the car, in case I get into an accident. I'm afraid to let the Boy anywhere near stairs, or ramps, or especially uneven ground. My heart clenches whenever we have to take the stroller on the subway. If the Boy is standing on the couch, I want him to get down so he won't fall and hit the coffee table. If he jumps on the bed, I think he's going to land on the floor. I could go on, but why? It's awful.

I don't stop him from doing anything. I still carry him down the stairs. We've driven on the highway to see my parents. We go places on the subway all the time. I do let him run and jump and climb. But there I am in the background: hovering, warning, cringing. I get so tense that I give myself headaches and my heart races. I don't want to be that kind of over-protective mum - the one that never lets their kids do anything fun. It's funny too, because I'm incredibly lenient about things that other moms are horrified at. The Boy has eaten whole grapes since he started on solids (I tried cutting them up, but he would have none of it). He has eaten food that has fallen on the floor. He spent the majority of his first year sleeping in strollers or mini-matinée theatres. We don't stay home every time I think he has a cold.

I guess what I'm most worried about is the possibility that this fear has nothing do with what happened on the subway that day. If it was, it would go away in time. I worry that the fear was always in me, and that day at the subway was just the catalyst. What I don't want is to raise a Boy who afraid. He doesn't deserve that.