"Diagnosis": I'm an anxious mother

I was always amused by mothers who bathe children in water with a temperature of at least 40 degrees, put on warm sweaters with caps at +25 and treat the usual ARI with antibiotics. Over a cup of tea, my friend and I often condemned such women and, grinning, said: "Mom will grow up as a little son." I thought so until I gave birth.

Once, something bad happened to my child. At 3 months, the baby fell ill. The doctor prescribed us a powder that had to be diluted with water. I did everything according to the instructions. She laid the syringe by the cheek, raised her head and began to pour the medicine. At this very moment, the baby inhaled sharply and ... stopped breathing. There was no one at home. I understood that the ambulance wouldn’t have time to get there, but I still called, several times hysterically shouting into the phone: “Please, faster, he is dying.” When I saw that the son’s face was turning blue, I realized that this was all the end.

Suddenly, I remembered the words of Dr. Komarovsky: "It is better to do something than nothing." A fragment of one of his programs appeared in my head right there. Evgeny Olegovich told what to do during suffocation. In an instant, she grabbed her son, laid him on her knee, turned her on her tummy so that her head was tilted down, and began to tap on the back with her hand. And, lo and behold !!! The baby coughed and began to breathe.

The paramedic who arrived confirmed that everything worked out. At that moment, I realized that death is always with us, and any parental mistake can lead to tragedy - the worst tragedy - the death of a child. With such thoughts, I began to live constantly. Anxiety did not leave me for a minute.

Here is how it manifested itself:

I never leave my son unattended during games. If you need to cook something, but nobody is at home, I put the baby in a highchair.
Our family is rarely in public places. If you really need it, then in the supermarkets, I, first of all, think about the emergency exits that will be needed during a natural disaster, a fire, and only then about shopping.
In public transport, I am also obsessed with the idea that there is always a pedophile, a psychopath, a person selling children, etc. I always carry a spray can in my purse, and I go around the tenth road that seems suspicious to me. In addition, I constantly think that the baby can catch a virus or some kind of infection in the crowd.
The biggest fear is that my baby may get lost. Therefore, on his son’s clothes there is always a tag with his name, my phone number. And the number of the Lisa Alert search group comes first in my notebook.
When we are standing at the pedestrian crossing with my son, I always look around and see if any car is rushing in our direction. I’m thinking over to the smallest detail where to take the stroller in case the car goes directly to us.
I’m also very careful while driving. No maneuvers, red light traffic. Maximum distance, minimum speed - this is my motto when driving a car.
The child eats also under supervision. He is already 1.5 years old. But, as before, I don’t give him any crackers, large pieces, chopped fruits, vegetables. Instead of meat, I cook my son souffle, meatballs, meatballs. I feed only with natural products. Sugar, salt is not added.
I constantly repeat mentally the procedure for cardiac and pulmonary resuscitation. After all, danger can wait anywhere and even under the supervision of parents. I bought relevant literature. I plan to make a small poster and hang it on the wall.
All sharp objects, knives, scissors, needles are at a height. Shelves under the lock, attached to the wall. Rubber patches flaunt at the corners, stoppers on the windows.
With other children, the son rarely plays. I don’t let him go to the playground, especially in the sandbox - a collection of cat excrement, worms and other surprises. If any baby coughs nearby, I immediately take my son and go to another place. I always look around the territory where the child plays, for the presence of fragments, syringes, dogs.
The house has a Swedish wall, a soft mat is laid on the floor. On a scooter and a runbike, the son rides in knee pads, elbow pieces and a helmet.
When the baby gets ARI, I fly without unnecessary medication. If a bacterial infection has developed, I never regret money for paid clinics and laboratory tests. I almost never hope for a favorable outcome. I always scroll through the worst options in my head.
I look at other children and compare with mine. For example, the son did not speak at 1 year and 4 months. I molested the doctors with the question: “Maybe this is autism?”. But the sixth neurologist told me to leave a healthy child alone and treat my nerves.

I never show my son that I protect and worry about his safety and health. I’m not one of those who constantly shout: “Do not run, otherwise you will fall”, “Do not touch, or you will cut yourself”, etc.

Of course, I try to work on myself, but they fail. At least 3 thoughts a day flash through my head about accidents, terrible people, tragedies, misfortunes, waiting for my child everywhere.

But still, I’m sure that I’d rather be worried than to suffer from my mistakes all my life.

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