A Mother's "Nerves"

What are nerves? We've all heard the terms used by our own parents,"you're getting on my nerves" or "you're giving me a nervous breakdown", etc..., but what exactly are "nerves" anyway? I've experienced the feeling of little ones getting on my "nerves", some days more than others. I've even experienced the feeling that you might have a nervous breakdown; but today I am experiencing the reality of "nerves". It's not the little annoyances or the way they seem to push you to your limit, it's the reality of perpetual danger that causes our every sense to awaken to a point that it seems to hurt our very being, our body, our mind.

Tomorrow my oldest daughter goes in for her first operation. It's minor really, just fixing her teeth, but it's surgery. They are putting her out for it, it involves anesthetic and so my nerves kick in. I remember my surgery for my tonsils and I begin to worry. Will she be okay throughout the process? It's more than the actual surgery, will she cry when they put the iv in, will she panic when she begins to go under, will she wonder where I am? Will she cry for me and wish I was there for her in that moment, and when she wakes up will she feel sick, will she be in pain, will she be dis-oriented again wondering where I am and so my nerves again kick in. My motherly instinct to protect her at all costs, and I want to fight the doctor and demand to go in with her. I want to hold her hand through it all and I am terrified she won't come out at all.

Gilbert says that this is silly, but is it? Is it silly to worry about your baby or is it instinct; our God given intuition that says protect that which came from you. In the end she is still that---my baby. She may think she's sixteen(she's only seven and 1/2), roll her eyes at me like I know nothing, demand more and more independance from me (like today she packed her own lunch, got her sisters out of bed, and would have fed the baby if she knew how to make her cereal), but she is still my baby. I still remember when they laid her on my belly and said,"congradulations, you have a baby girl". I still think of her as my little baby girl, Jessica Anne, 8lbs, 2 ounces, 22 inches. My little baby girl, my first-born, my fire child.

And so I will have a sleepless night, a night full of "nerves", and a day when I may reach that point of having "a nervous breakdown"; when they wheel her away; and until she is back in my arms and ready to "get on" my nerves again, and for the first time I really understand what "nerves" are.