I have always been a bit of a worry wort. The other day, for example, I saw a man walking his dog without a leash and immediately felt sick. What if the dog took off into the street and got hit by a car? Or suddenly was attacked by a bigger dog? The owner, I’m sure, would tell me to relax, but even a well trained dog can get startled or run into some bad luck. This is why I make sure Rigby — an admittedly not so perfectly trained dog — always wears a leash in public no matter how safe her surroundings may seem. This amuses Heather, but I don’t care. I don’t want anything to happen to my pup.
I was the same way with Madeline. Often I carried her around in a baby bjorn which was something she loved because it gave her the opportunity to see the world from a higher perspective. No matter how secure she may have seemed in the bjorn, however, I always kept one hand on the front of it. I was worried that a strap might break and little Maddie would go tumbling to the ground. The odds of this happening were very small, I realized, but I was worried nonetheless. It didn’t matter how many dudes with babies in bjorns I saw at ball games jawing on their cell with one hand and drinking a beer with the other – I always secured Maddie with one hand when she was in the bjorn.
Another time the worry wort in me came out was when we took Maddie on her first airplane ride to Arizona for a weekend getaway to see some spring training baseball. I had Maddie on my lap as we took off, and soon it dawned on me that if we hit some bad turbulence she might go flying up to the ceiling. Despite being exhausted from a long work week, I fought the urge to nod off and wrapped my arms around Maddie. I held her safe and sound until we touched down on the ground an hour or so later.
Sadly, no matter how much we worry about our loved ones or fight to keep them safe, we can only control so much. Our worlds can be turned upside down at any moment. As Maddie’s dad I wanted nothing more than to keep her safe, but it was out of my control. I stood fifteen feet away from my little girl as she fought for her life and there was nothing I could do to save her.
We want to think we have the power to keep our loved ones – our children – safe, but we don’t. Not entirely. There is so much beyond our control. With this said it is easy to understand people who don’t love with all their hearts, because the more you love the more you open yourself up to pain. I can’t live that way though, and if you care enough to come here and read this you probably can’t either.
Scary, huh?
I don’t have any great wisdom about how we can deal with living and loving in a world that can be so cruel. I wish I did.
InDueTime says:
I’ve always been a worry wart too.
Frugal Babe says:
I am a worry wart too. My family teases me about it, and my siblings say that they all have an extra mother. I don’t know if it goes along with being extra sensitive, but I do know that I tend to feel others’ pain pretty acutely, and then find myself worrying, for strangers and friends alike. Your story has touched my heart, and I’ve cried for your family even though I’ve never met you.
Camels & Chocolate says:
I’m watching someone very close to me lose a 17-year battle with cancer, lost a grandmother who raised me last summer, and have had other friends pass away so young–in just their 20s–in the past year. This has made me equally paranoid about my own family and fiance, so thank you for your words, they really hit home. I should just leave things in the hands of fate, as things are going to work out how they’re supposed to either way, right?
AMomTwoBoys says:
Maddie was a wonderful little girl who was so very blessed to have parents who loved her and cared for her as much as you and Heather did. That doesn’t change anything, or make anything better, though. But it does speak volumes for what fabulous people you two are.
And for what an amazing life she lived, and what an awesome little girl Miss Maddie will always be.
xoxo
jana says:
I’m a worrier too; wish I wasn”t but I am. I send you peace and support; I am so very sorry. It’s clear that Maddie’s safety was essential to you in every way, for every day.
Wish I were wiser. wish I could take a bit of it away.
rachel says:
I’m glad I’m not alone in the worrying…I have a weird fear of people falling overboard on cruises, and the in-laws are always crusing…it sends me into panic attacks for days. It is natural to want to protect what we love…and so unfair that we can only do so much! Love the blog and Heathers as well. Hope you are both finding some room to breathe…
Eliza Gee says:
So true. I guess I’m reminded that if we don’t love fully then we’ll never fully experience the joy that true love brings. We have to experience the seemingly unbearable pain, but in the end I’m covinced it’s all worth the risk (that said, I’ve never lost a child). Thank you for sharing your life and your amazing daughter with us.
Loralee says:
I fight the urge to keep my remaining children with me every second of every day.
I could worry and worry and worry about their safety and if the worst will happen to them, too. And then I could worry some more. I’m so protective of my new little one that I wonder how in the world I will get on a plane to go to BlogHer. Which is exactly why I’m going.
I fight it every day. Worry and fear could rule my life if I let it. And that? Is not a way to live.
Still-I don’t think the urge to let it will ever go away. Not really. I can only do my best and try to get the fear to cooperate with me as much as I can.
xo.
Adrienne says:
Perhaps there is something to worrying tho. It made you feel better didn’t it? At the time? I’m certain it made Maddie feel secure, who wouldn’t with their daddy’s hand on them or arms wrpped around them.
If we just “leave everything up to fate”, then we would become a very lakadaisical bunch (even more than we already are).
Embrace your worriness (is too a word, hush), but be careful that it doesn’t take control.
and btw a leash is not only a good idea IT”S THE LAW! Thank you for doing it.
Kelly says:
I love someone with all my heart, and I have never been so scared in my life… Opening yourself up to someone like this really leaves you so vulnerable.
The loss that you and Heather have suffered is unimaginable, and I hope never to have to experience anything like it… I know how much my little girl means to me. How completely and utterly in love – and thus metaphorically naked – I am. I am fretting at the thought of retuning to work soon and spending 2.5 days a week away from her. I can’t imagine a lifetime. I never want to imagine a lifetime. I couldn’t breathe…
I know you tried to keep Maddie safe. I know that you did an amazing job of it. I know that I’d do anything to bring her back to you both, or to change history and make it so that your safety was all that she needed…
Love and hugs to you, Heather and Rigby.
Tina@SendChocolate says:
Worrying helps us feel in control, even when we are not. Maybe that’s ok.
I love reading about Maddie, though it hurts my heart, I am so glad you continue to remind us of your sweet girl.
Tina
Alexandra says:
I’ve lost so many people in my life, people I’ve loved dearly and breathlessly. Sometimes it feels like your heart cannot take another heartbreak. Someone told me once, “with great love, comes great pain.” I think on that, and I realize that’s the price of the ticket for loving deeply and really feeling alive in that person.
My father passed away when I was in the first grade, my mother when I was 28, and my brother just this January. My college boyfriend committed suicide (having suffered from depression for years and years.)
I did love them deeply, and it almost killed me inside. But I’m still here, and I wouldn’t trade loving them for a painfree life, ever. Because, for the time you had them, you were living it and feeling and alive.
God bless you, and keep you and Heather.
Julia Janzen says:
It’s so true… even with all the love, worry, concern & love in the world there is so much beyond our ability to protect. Probably one of my greatest struggles in life is being an overly protective worrier. It’s like that old story of tethering a little tree too tightly or not tight enough. There’s this fine balance where you want the wind and elements to strengthen the tree a bit so it’s roots grow deep preparing it for future storms, but you don’t want to have it so loose that there’s no support before it’s roots have a chance to grow deep. Loving anybody and anything is like that I think. But storms come and sometimes even trees with the strongest of roots can not withstand the force of mother nature.
Although I do not know you and your family I hear loud and clear how deeply you love her and your pain of not being able to save her. I have to imagine from the look on her sweet little face with those rosebud cheeks that she completely knew how much she was adored and cherished. What a gift to her.
Candice says:
No, you weren’t able to save her, but you guys took better care of her than anyone else could have for 17 months. Hugs!
Lauren says:
While I cannot pretend to understand what you’re going through right now, I definitely identify with the feeling of loving someone intensely, and how overwhelming that can be because of the desire it creates to shield that person from any sort of harm. As you said, the worry that creates is hard to cope with, but the feeling of being loved and kept safe is such an incredible gift to the person on the receiving end of that love, because it makes them feel so safe and cared for. Maddie’s lucky to have a father who loves her like that.
Debbie in Memphis says:
I come from a long line of worriers – women who could have had PhDs in worrying. It’s a struggle every day to deal with things that I can’t control. Love is a struggle and the pain, it can bring when it doesn’t work out like our dreams, can be crippling, but the memory of the moments when love shines in our lives make it all worth the pain. Hang on to all those memories of love, the love of the amazing Maddie Moo. They are more valuable than diamonds or gold. I wish I could take some of your and Heather’s pain and give you more moments of peace and love. I’m so sorry that I can’t. Sending you my love, hope and prayers for better days.
Joe @ Irrational Dad says:
You controlled what you could. I’m not much of a worrier, and sometimes pick fun at the person that always has one or two hands hovering inches from their baby when he or she tries to walk. But the fact is, making your baby feel more secure makes you feel more secure. Maddie saw that and felt that. I’m amazed at how perceptive they can be. Maddie knows you did everything you could, when you could.
amanda says:
So right. Sometimes I think I’m crazy to open myself up – because it’s truly opening yourself up to the chance to feel extreme pain and sadness – but living a closed-off life isn’t an option either, at least not for me. So sadly for you, you’ve endured what is sure to be the most difficult pain and sadness of all. I am certain that Maddie felt safe and secure whenever she was with you. Thinking of you and sending love.
xo from CT,
Amanda
Angi says:
Good to hear from you, Mike. I wasjust thinking of you yesterday. I love what you say here. It’s so true…
kristen says:
Mike,
so good to read your thoughts once again. what you say about is so true, something i struggle with once in a while as a mother, and so i truly appreciate your perspective.
you and heather are parents of the best kind, who loved maddie and protected her every day so fiercely and openly. for any child to feel so happy, so blissful, so content as your maddie appears in EVERY photo proves to me that she felt so safe and secure and loved. she was self confident, friendly, and outgoing…traits born from safety and security. you did an amazing job.
xxoo
kristen
Jen W says:
I’m a worrier too. My mind always takes me to worst case scenario. Hugs to you and Heather.
Kasey Jackson says:
Same here. I worry constantly. I worry about my kids drowning in the bathtub STILL. They are 6 and 8. I worry about my 2-year-old running in the driveway. He might fall down! All this worrying makes me ill sometimes. Literally.
We all worry about stuff. Some of us worry more than others. Some of us love more than others. It’s obvious you love and have been loved a tremendous amount. I worry you don’t know how much people *feel* that about you. Even people you’ve never met. Sometimes you can just tell. You’re a wonderful husband, father and friend. It’s obvious.
I could say you should try to stop worrying. But the world would have to stop spinning for that to happen. I know. I’m right there with ya. And I don’t wanna have to worry about the entire world and its axis, ya know?
Smile often. Hug more. Love always. Worry only when you realize you don’t want to do any of these things anymore.
Hugs from Indianapolis …
Krissa says:
It really isn’t “right” is it, that the more we love the more we open ourselves up to pain. Why does it work that way? There’s no answer. But I think it would be far worse to love less – even if it meant that there wouldn’t be as much pain. … Keeping you and Heather and your families in my thoughts and heart. And little Rigby too. (((Hugs))) to you all.
Pat says:
Mike…I have been reading you ever since BHJ turned me to your blog in May of “08”. Your are like family in my mind. I worry so about my family. I worry so about you. I have been waiting for you to post something so I could hear how you are doing. I keep hoping you are keeping strong and that you and Heather are taking care of each other. I keep hoping there is some sort of joy somewhere in your day..and peace in your sleep at night. I will keep looking for your info on your blog and you are forever on my worry list…..
Brittany says:
I always kept one hand on my Baby Bjorn too!
Tami says:
Its ok to worry about the ones you love.. I worry over every thing and I get tired of people telling me I cant change what I have no control over.. It is my nature to worry and then to stress over what will happen next.. I wish I was a strong person, but I am not!! My thoughts and prayers are with you and Heather daily.. Keep your little rigby save, because he is like one of your kids.
Midwest Mommy says:
I am such a worry wort and I think that is part of the reason why Maddie is constantly on my mind. How fragile life really is.
Sara says:
I too, am a worrier. A friend told me that worrying is like sweeping the beach. But I still find myself clutching the broom. Your words are eloquent and my heart breaks for you, Heather, and your family. Never worry about the kind of dad you were to your precious Madeline. Although I’ve never met you or Heather, from reading your blogs, I feel like I’ve known you forever and it’s very evident how awesome you two are as parents and how much you loved Maddie. Here’s to the ‘good’ days and sweet memories you have and God bless you and keep you for the ‘not so good days’.
Ms. Moon says:
Once, when one of my children was hit by a car and as I was speeding to the hospital to find out how badly she’d been injured (they wouldn’t tell me on the phone) my main thought was this:
I should never have had children because I cannot bear this.
She lived, she is fine, albeit in some pain for the rest of her life but I will always remember that feeling- I cannot bear this.
You are having to bear it. I don’t know how you do it. I feel sure you are feeling as if you don’t.
I’m sorry.
Blessed says:
I’ll just say that I can relate. I understand exactly where you are coming from because I’m the same way.
Still thinking of you, Heather and Maddie every day.
Mindy says:
From the moment my daughter (now 8 1/2 mo) was born I began to feel this nagging. I was suddenly becoming aware of just how vulnerable and exposed I was and that my heart was now officially placed in the palms of my baby’s hands. I have never given myself wholeheartedly and completely like this for that very reason – I was completely helpless! But she took it. There was nothing I could do about it.
Everyday I worry about all the things I can’t control with her and somedays it makes me sick. I hang on to every word that you and Heather share with us and it gives me the strength to be strong and enjoy all my moments with her because I don’t know when they will be my last with her.
Thank you for sharing!
Mindy
Alli says:
I, too, kept one hand in front of the bjorn with my kids. Glad to know I wasn’t the only worrier!
Great message you sent…I would much rather have deep love with people while they are still here rather than being guarded and not allowing myself to open up.
Molly says:
Hi Mike,
I was just wondering how you were doing and was so glad to see a post. You sound a lot like my husband. I’m so sorry that Madeline was taken from you. I think about you guys every day and am reminded of Maddie (though I never met her) all the time.
Take good care,
Molly
Lora says:
Yes. I spend an inordinate amount of time each day worrying and fretting and trying to prevent bad things from happening. I know it doesn’t work, but still I can’t relax. Trying to prevent stuff gives me something to do with those feelings of fear and worry. Having no control over loss is very scary indeed. And you’re right, loving less because of that fear is not the way to go. You loved Maddie fully and completely, and she knew that.
gorillabuns says:
I’ve been worrying more about my other children since Thalon’s death. I wake up several times a night and roam the house. Make sure the doors are locked, the alarm is on and put my hand on their backs to make sure they are breathing.
I am constantly waking my children in the middle of the night because I’m so afraid that one of them is going to pass in their sleep as well.
Kristen McD says:
I’ve been worrying about you. I’m glad to see you’ve posted.
Stephanie says:
Oh, I was just thinking something similar this weekend. I have both anxiety and OCD, so I always live with this never-ending loop of terror that something bad will happen to someone I love. I see it in my head. It tortures me. And yet… yet…. I cannot help but love immensely. Sometimes I think it would be easier to be more distant, but then I think to myself, if something were to happen, it would crush me, but I would know that I put myself out there for that person and made the most of the time we had together.
Well, this isn’t a therapy post for me, so I’ll stop here. But I wanted to say that I understand, as best as a stranger with a different life can.
Pamela says:
I never realized I was such a worry wart too, until I had my children! So very much is out of our control. I hold them tight and love them much but the future is as always, unknown. Maddie forever.
Notesfromthegrove says:
You’re a good man, Mike. Heather is so lucky to have someone as sweet as you. And Maddie was lucky to have such a caring, thoughtful, protective daddy. You’re so right and you put it so well…closing yourself off is no way to live life. But when you open yourself up, you invite pain. It’s a double edged sword. I’m always thinking of you both and wishing you the very best. -Brittany @ Notes from the Grove
Danielle says:
I know this is true and it scares the crap out of me. I want you to know that I donate to the March of Dimes in Maddies name every month. Your lives have touched me more than you know. Thanks for sharing.
Jackie says:
You’re right. Love comes with worry. But, love is amazing to have. Keep it in your life.
Love you Mike. Sending you virtual hugs.
mrs chicken says:
I’m the same way, Mike. I always believe I can control what happens. I thought if I prayed/worked/loved hard enough, cancer wouldn’t kill my dad.
Guess what? It did.
Your courage in continuing to share your loss and your feelings and your grief will help so many people. It is a terrible fraternity, but you are shining a light on the stuff that so often goes unspoken. Maddie is so proud of her father.
love to you.
Michelle says:
Hi Mike,
I have ALWAYS been a worry wort….and your tragedy has increased that a tad. It has also made me live my life a bit slower so I can enjoy moments I may have taken for granted. I have worried about you and Heather and am so glad to see a post from you!!
I so wish the last 10 weeks wouldn’t have happened. I think of you and your precious family every day and keep you all in my prayers.
Thinking of you,
Michelle in Herculaneum, MO
Amanda says:
There are times I wish I didn’t love with my whole heart. I feel so much more raw and vulnerable. But really, I’m glad I feel this way. I’m glad I can lose myself with the ones I love. I know it will make it that much harder if I were to lose any of them, but it makes life so much more enjoyable while they’re here with me.
I’m glad you’re back and writing again. I missed reading you. I hope it can continue to help you to write out what you’re going through. Nothing will make it easy, but hopefully the release and support will bring some comfort.
cindy w says:
My dad has the worrywart gene, and I definitely inherited it from him. My brain automatically goes to whatever the worst-case scenario could possibly be. I hate it, I wish there was a way to shut it down.
I also hate it for you, and I wish there was a way to spare you and Heather some of the pain that you’re in right now. So sorry. Big hugs to you both.
P.S. I always kept one hand on the Baby Bjorn too.
jenni says:
I’m a fellow worry wart. My two-year-old now refuses to ride in his stroller. He must walk! holding hands! all by himself! It scares the shit out of me. What if he breaks free and runs into the road? what if someone snatches him? what if a car careens off the street and I can’t ssave him? but there’s noting to be done.
I’m glad you’re keeping your heart open. It’s hurts and it’s scary, but it’s right.
Alison says:
If I could get a job as a professional worrier, I’d be climbing the corporate ladder in no time.
That being said, I have no children and can only imagine the intensity of that love and the intensity of the anxiety that can go with it.
It speaks volumes about people who can open up and love someone so entirely. I know people who can’t. I even know parents (of friends and schoolmates) who don’t seem to do that.
Maddie has awesome parents!
Hugs.
Lindsey says:
Ah but you do have great wisdom. With your post, you just opened all of our eyes and our hearts. You affect every one of us every time you write. Keep it up. We need you as much as you need us.
Melissa says:
I was once told that I’m a person of high highs and low lows. The trade off between the lows was that I had the capacity to feel the highs, too. I grieved passionately, but I was also able to be passionately joyful.
That’s the trade, I guess. Numbness, holding back and not getting as hurt… but also not loving as much. Or… loving with everything you have, feeling with your whole heart, reaching those highest highs and risking the lows, too.
Even now, feeling this grief that seems bottomless, aren’t you glad you loved and cherished and felt the incredible joy of each moment you had with her?
I am heartbroken at your and Heather’s sorrow. My thoughts go out to you both every day.
Mama Kalila says:
I’m one too and it drives my husband insane. We just got back from a trip to the ocean… and half the time I was scared witless that something was gonna happen to Kalila. At the beach I kept trying to keep a hand on her… at the club where the reception was held there was a wall you could stand against and look out at the water, I was sure she’d fall through… Heart in throat the whole time. I spent a lot of time on the trip thinking about my lack of trust… I have a whole post in my head for my secondary blog (is not linked to the one above) on the sub.. but sans computer (am on wii now) I haven’t posted it yet.
Andrea's Sweet Life says:
I’m a totally high-strung parent. I can always envision the millions of horrible things that could happen in any given situation and I know I won’t always be able to prevent it, or fix it, or deal with it. As parents we all want to protect our little ones from the world. One of the hardest lessons we have to learn is that we can’t. I’m so very sorry, Mike.
tara says:
i am a worry wart too. i wish with all my heart that you and heather didn’t have to go through this. i’ve just gotten to know you online, and i do KNOW that you were AMAZING parents. maddie was so incredible because of the life you LIVED with her. my heart aches for you and heather every day. i’m wrapping you with hugs all the time, every day. xoxo
Lisa says:
I do the same thing with the baby bjorn. I just never felt comfortable taking both my hands off of it. My husband often made fun of me, but i couldn’t help it.
I think we do the little things we can to keep our kids safe because we know deep down inside that it isn’t entirely in our control. It hurts to know that we can’t.
Sending love and hugs your way.
Suzanne says:
This is an amazing post. I can’t tear myself away from your, Heather’s and Maddie’s story because I’ve come to feel like I know your family and, consequently, need to hear how you are doing and offer my (lame) supportive words. I’m invested and yet I admit it is hard to read. I cannot help but think, with every post that makes my heart hurt, that this could be me. Horrible things happen to wonderful people who do everything right and act with all the prudence, care and rationality in the world. And there is nothing, no amount of worrying, no amount of preventive, careful behavior or mental preparation that can form a protective seal around your life and your heart.
I feel like you’ve outed me. I am a fellow worrier of the worst kind — the kind who’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the unimaginable even as my little hamster brain refuses to accept that such a thing could happen. I feel such heartache for you and Heather, and such white knuckled terror at this irrefutable proof that life can be so unfair and so, so cruel.
But I need to add one very, very important postscript to this otherwise rather pointless comment. You both taught me a lesson that no one else — not parents, friends or mentors — has ever successfully imparted, despite much futile effort. I did not fully grasp this knowledge until I read your and Heather’s tributes and saw the videos and pictures of your joyful, radiant daughter. The lesson is this: It is a folly to take the good times in your life for granted, and an equal folly to live a small, fearful existence.
So…thanks for that. I still need to convince my husband, but thank you a thousand times over for convincing me. I know this is cold comfort and doubtless sounds odd coming from a total stranger, but I’m not sure anyone could have taught me that except you and Heather through your powerful words. You guys are amazing parents and wonderful people. I think of you both every single day and send you all the good wishes I have to give.
3kids&ahusband says:
You do have words of wisdom and you said them perfectly. You said the more you love the more you open yourself up to pain. We have to love fully and completely to the best of our ability even if it ends painfully because I would rather feel the pain then to have never felt the love and given the love. Thanks for sharing the stories about all the love you and your wife share with your Maddie!
Kelly says:
My friend reminds me a lot of me when it comes to raising our kids. We make sure we watch who they hang around with, we are sure to make healthy food choices for them, we make sure they do good in school, that they use their manners and that they are involoved in activities – you know that idle hands saying. When most kids walk into town after school we were sure to not let this happen with all that can go wrong with traffic, strangers and just plain teenage trouble, we were determined to have our kids in a safer, more controlled enviorment.
Her son passed away at home, just feet from where they were, in the safest place…home. Its a struggle for them and all of us to make sense of. Its not fair, and when he first passed away I remember her saying that she is now the someone else in the “it won’t happen to me’ sentence. I can imgaine that there will be lots of attempts to reconcile how and why what happened, happened. It will never make sense, really. But I hope you take comfort in knowing, while that sweet, sweet angel was here, no matter how short her time was, she was absolutely loved, 100% cared for, and beyond happy. There was nothing you could do to keep her from going, but while she was here, you did it all for her. That means SO much.
kristy says:
Hello Mike,
I’m so happy to see you write. I check on you and Heather daily.
HUGS HUGS HUGS
susan says:
I am a worrier too! i worry my children will be stolen if they go to an amusement park (they are 15 and 12) or the neighborhood store. i worry that i will die and leave them with no mommy, i worry about them when i am not there …. still. i worry about you and heather, will you guys make it. I was worried about you when i hadn’t read anything since “My Sweet Baby”. Stay well Michael, and take care of Heather. You are both grieving in your own way – but stick by each other – you need each other now more than ever.
Glenda says:
I am a worrier too! I lost my dad when I was 13. Always thought I’d come home from school and I’d lose my mom. I lost 2 of my brothers, my grandma and a niece. I have 2 kids of my own and worry about them every single day. Sending you and Heather hugs!
Kelly says:
Mike what a beautiful post and a tribute to the exquisite and terrifying joy of parenting. It is awesome to observe the strength of one human heart bearing the full force of such love- awesome and humbling. I think of your glorious daughter every day. And I think and worry and send wishes for comfort and peace to you and Heather and your family who must all bear this loss somehow. You have all shown such grace and found the strength in your love for Maddie to share yourselves and to share her. Thank you for such a rich and priceless gift.
Patty says:
Mike, You have been placed in a situation that I cannot even imagine having to go through. This post was beautiful! I, myself, got a little worried about where this post was going when you mentioned understanding how people don’t love with everything they have in order to avoid pain. I was dreading the next sentence, but was so pleased to see that although you get it, you can’t live your life like that. Keep loving with everything you have. Hugs to you and Heather from Arizona, Patty
Christina says:
I’ve been called an overprotective parent many times. And I generally nod and say, “Yes, I am. So what?” I’m not an overly anxious person, except when it comes to my children. They mean too much for me to not worry about them.
You’re right – we can’t control everything, and it’s not what we want to hear. And we also can’t beat ourselves up when we’re unable to prevent something outside of our control. But accepting that fact is very hard to do.
Dixie says:
You don’t know me, but I come here daily as I do to Heather’s site as well. I’m a fosterparent for newborns. I’ve had 120 of them. I’m worry about everything. You’d think I’d get over it, but I don’t. I worry more than their own mothers do. And then I send then back to the places they came from. I wish my babies had an iota of the love and care that you two gave and continue to give your precious baby. You make the world a better place!
Maria says:
I’ve always spent an unhealthy amount of time worrying. As a child, I always cracked a window driving as we crossed bridges. In case the car hurtled off and I needed a way to escape.
Today, driving home from a day at the zoo, I actually thought of that. It took every fiber of my will to keep from cracking the windows. And I couldn’t help my mind wandering to what I would do if it happened. How would I get my boys out? My stomach tightened up and my eyes welled with tears.
Since Maddie passed, the fears have been stronger. She lit up my days. Every day that you and Heather shared stories. It was a major blow to my faith and calm when you lost her, because you and Heather are so real and so personable and so vibrant. If it could happen to you, it could happen to any of us.
I hate that you have to be that example. I hate that she’s gone.
I’m glad that you wrote this though. It means a lot to hear your “voice.” My mom asked about you yesterday. My mom who doesn’t read blogs and rarely checks her email.
Out of the blue she asked, “How is Mike doing?”
I hope, even if it’s a tiny little bit, that the love of those who may never meet you but care so much brings you comfort.
Moon HalloranLeady says:
Oh I was such the worrier too when my baby girl was itty-bitty! Geez I still am and she’s 14 now….so much more to be worried about at this point!!
You know – although I know it will be of little comfort…dear person…as if I could take all that away – my baby girl nearly left us at the tender age of 10 days old so I have had a bit of the bitter taste of possible losing my angel girl.
But we got lucky. We were the lucky ones.
Dear heavens – how I wish it could have been the same for you folks. My heart aches every time I read yours and Heather’s posts.
Sending you some bright blessings and all the hugs the universe can imagine.
Moon
Dawn says:
I tell the ones I love that if I wasn’t worried about them, then that would mean I don’t care… and I do. Just as I can tell that you do Mike.
Hugs to you and Heather as you continue on this difficult journey.
Chrissie says:
Mike,
You don’t strike me as a country music listener….but I was wondering if You and Heather have ever heard the song by Garth Brooks called “The Dance” here are the lyrics…
Lookin back
on the memory of
the dance we shared
neath the stars above.
For a MOMENT
all the world was right
how could I have known
that you’d ever say goodbye?
And now
Im glad I didn’t know
The way it all would end
The way it all would go.
My life
Its better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I’d a had to miss
The Dance.
Holding you
Oh I’ve held everything
For a moment, wasn’t I the king?
But if I’d only known
How the king would fall
Hey who’s to say, you know I might have changed it all.
And now, Im glad I didn’t know
The way it all would end
The way it all would go
Our lives, their better left to chance
I could have missed the pain.
But I’d a had to miss
The Dance.
Yes My life, its better left to chance
I coulda missed the pain, but I’d a had to miss
The dance. (END)
In the “moments” you guys had with her the whole world was right. I wish that you never had to say goodbye to her. She was your “everything”. Your moments with her were way too short, it is so unfair but Im glad that you, Heather and this whole world didnt miss our “dance” with Maddie.
I typed the lyrics from memory, but you should listen to the song. It is so beautiful. It reminds me of my father who passed away when I was 12. I played it in remembrance of him at my wedding. Now, when I listen to “The Dance” I think of my father, and of Sweet little Maddie. I think of her dancing.
Hugs to you and Heather.
Paula says:
Yes, I’m a worrier, too. For all the good it does. I wish I was more like my husband. He just says we’ll do what we can, then he goes right to sleep. This old West Texas gal has been thinking about you and yours a lot. Glad to see you posted.
Childwoman says:
I am a big worrier too. I can never relax. Even on vacations, I am always tensed about something going wrong at some time. I can fully understand you..but like you said, somethings are totally out of our control…
Terri says:
I’m a worrier too. I’ve taken my Maya Wrap on planes just so Kalie can be attached to me in case of disaster, not that it would matter or help but it makes me feel better that whatever happens we would be stuck together. Everything you wrote is so so true. We still try though to prevent anything and everything, but somethings are just out of our reach. I don’t have any wisdom either, there are no reasons and not much makes sense. Our neighbor put his 2 year old down for nap Sunday and he went in to wake him up and he had passed in his sleep. He wasn’t sick, hadn’t been hurt, he was a normal rambunctious two year old. There’s just no reason for any of this and its so so frightening. I’m not a religious person but I have to believe that whatever horrible things happen in this world, we will go on and it will all be fixed in the next one. You’ll see your baby girl again, I have to believe that to make it through.
Debbie says:
I learned that lesson when I was a nanny. No matter how hard we work, I realized, all sorts of things could make me feel powerless as a caregiver.
I have no wisdom either. Maybe just the thought that it’s just better to love when you have the chance. To take every opportunity to love as much as you can when the opportunity is there. I don’t know enough about pain, but I can see that for you and Heather, Maddie was worth the hurt.
Barb says:
I too worry. I normally worry enough for all the people around me. Sometimes I wish that there was a way to turn it off like when I’m worrying if something my daughter is doing is a result of her being 13 weeks early. Or if I try to get a hold of my parents one evening and can’t and think something terrible might have happened. As much as I sometimes wish I didn’t worry quite so much, I also know that’s what makes me me. I know I wouldn’t worry about it so much if I didn’t love those people. I know worrying does not help keep these people safe although I wish it did….
Deidre says:
Your not alone in your worrisome ways. I have over protective with myself, as I am the only living parent of my daughter. I am overprotective of my daughter, as she is all I have, since her daddy is not here. Don’t worry, I will tell straight up if they are doing anything stupid in public with their child. It is a gut instinct. I can’t keep myself quiet. It is just in our makeup. You are an incredible parent. Always was and always will be.
Karen says:
Oh Mike… I’m a worrier too. I worry about everything. I’m kind of an extreme case though because my worrying invariably leads to irrational thinking. I’m changing that pattern ever so slowly, but I still worry about those little details just like you. I don’t know WHY I am that way but I have tried to not love completely because it feels safer, but I can’t; I have a big heart. I love quickly and I fall hard.
sam {temptingmama} says:
I worry all the time about everything. EVERYTHING. Drives my husband Mike INSANE.
I love you and think about you often.
You know, love – in the strictly platonic way because well – you know.
AWKWARD.
Anyway. I’m always here.
maggie, dammit says:
I worry like this, too. All the time. I guess the lesson is supposed to be that you shouldn’t, that, like you said, you can’t control any of it… but I can’t imagine I’ll ever stop.
Amanda says:
I spent some time in therapy trying to learn not to worry so much. It’s always bothered me when people said things like – leave it up to god, or you can’t change it so don’t worry. HELLO???? God’s a little busy thankyouverymuch!
Anyway – just wanted to tell you that I’ve never gotten ‘good’ at it but I have learned to check myself from time to time and see just how much I can control and try and control that part (which is usually my actions and that’s about it).
I think about you often and hope you are doing okay, better, surviving, honestly, not sure what the right ‘feeling’ is…
Much love from Georgia.
Sarah says:
Just want you to know that I’m keeping you and Heather in my thoughts and prayers. I think of you both multiple times throughout the day and the struggle you are going through. though I know it can’t scratch the surface of your pain, every time I send a little prayer, positive energy, whatever you want to cal it, out to you and the universe. Hang in there, man.
Tricia (irishsamom) says:
Wow. You write so eloquently of that seeming irrational fear that invades your heart once you become a parent. It follows you everywhere. And you did protect Maddie Mike. You were her Daddy and she knew your huge love and she knew she was safe with you and her mommy. I am just so sorry that the one thing that you could not protect her from claimed her. It totally is unfair and it totally sucks. I do know this though : that to live and not love for fear of being hurt would be so, so sad. I too question why when you open yourself up to love you also open yourself up to hurt and loss? But I know that I wouldn’t want to live life any other way. And your little Maddie. She wouldn’t want your wonderful ability to love and be loved, along with your beautiful wife, to change. I am a stranger, but your words spoke so much to so many, especially to me today. If anything, it makes me realise just how short the time we have with our loved ones really is. Sending you hugs and hope.
Tricia and family x
Kate Coveny Hood says:
This sounds so much like me… I guess you can’t think about it. Just appreciate the time that you DO have with the people you love and try to stay alert to real danger – but beyond that…it’s just a matter of hope.
Thank you for the reminder to stop wasting time feeling sorry for myself about things that are temporary. There are far better things to be doing – like enjoying that time with my family.
Kath says:
The only way I know how to deal with such a world is to know that even when I can’t control the situation, God can. I don’t know why He took her from you, but I know that He holds her when you cannot. I hope and pray that you can take some comfort in knowing she is safe now.
I stumbled across your and Heather’s blogs a few months ago. I think of and pray for you both often. Thankyou for sharing your precious girl and all your stories.
Kellee says:
I don’t think many of us could live that way. I feel sorry for the people that can. What are they missing out on? I don’t think the pain, even tragic heart-breaking pain, ever outdoes the good that came from truly loving someone. You are wonderful.
Della says:
Again there is a ton that’s all jumbling around in my head but I’m not sure how much of it will make its way out.
Of all the recent posts, this I can definitely understand. I’m so right there with you about the hand on the baby carrier. I’m dealing with this right now because our company is paying for my husband and I to go to an all-inclusive resort in Cancun for four days (next weekend). So far, the longest I’ve been away from my (16 month old) son is 16 hours. So I’m freaking out about just being gone from him that long, not for him so much as for me! But also, I’ve been fighting off borderline panic attacks that something could happen to him while I’m out of the country. Then, my brain just starts making up more and more details. I sit there and figure out how I would get the heck back home “just in case.” It’s paralyzing, it makes me want to chicken out and not go.
But if not next weekend, when? When will I be okay with walking away? Granted, I might do better if I left for just 24 hours, then 48, working my way up, and MAYbe that would help. But honestly, I think my brain would come up with these scenarios regardless of whether I work up to it, and regardless of whether he’s 16 months or 6 years old. I’m to the point where I know I need to let go of the possibility of disaster, and live my life with the danger.
It’s not as easy to do that as it is to say it, but at least I know what my goal is. Accept the danger, or else I won’t be able to live.
.-= Della´s last blog ..Not Me! Monday, Tornado Edition =-.
trinity hanson says:
I feel more comfort in worrying than being carefree. Its weird because my sister is the exact opposite. We drive each other crazy on family trips. I wish I had something thoughtful or smart to add but just know that you & heather continue to be in my prayers. And i mean that. i truly pray for you guys. I know that this weekend is going to be heart wrenching. So just know people are thinking about you and wishing we could do more.
Al_Pal says:
Your love for Maddie is so clear, so evident; in your words and in her smiles; in your and Heather’s smiles in the photos with Maddie. Sending thoughts of peace and healing your way.
MG @ MommyGeekology says:
“it is easy to understand people who don’t love with all their hearts, because the more you love the more you open yourself up to pain. I can’t live that way though, and if you care enough to come here and read this you probably can’t either.”
You are so right.
.-= MG @ MommyGeekology´s last blog ..Brutally Honest. =-.
Krissa says:
Just coming back to send more (((hugs))) your way. Keeping you and Heather, your families and little Ribgy in my thoughts and heart.
Emily Aloha says:
This is an incredible post. Thank you for sharing your fears and love for your beautiful Maddie. It is hard to see such wonderful parents lose such a special little girl. I cannot imagine how difficult your journey has been. I wish you strength.
Lindsay from Florida says:
I just hurt for you and Heather. As soon as I finish typing this post, I am going to head over to the March of Dimes site and give $20 as my way of remembering you on the 20th of Father’s Day Weekend. In most ways, it’s not enough, not anything really as it does nothing to ease your suffering or to give you the only thing you could possibly want tomorrow (your Maddie’s beaming face). But, in other ways, I hope it IS something … I hope it might ease the smallest ounce of your pain to know that your daughter’s memory is inspiring people to support a charity that could one day prevent the unimaginable for another family. I’m rambling now … just wanted to let you know you’re being thought of during this especially difficult weekend. And while I know it cannot be happy, I send you love on Father’s Day because you are a phenomenal father of gorgeous Madeline Alice.
Michele says:
Thank you for sharing your deepest feelings and thoughts. I’m so sorry for your loss. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your wife.
Mary @ Holy Mackerel says:
I can so relate to this. Although my child did not pass away, he almost did more than once. And it was then that I realized, and learned, that we have no control over some things, and also, I learned not to take a moment for granted.
Take care of yourself this Father’s Day, Mike, and know that little Maddie is sending you lots of hugs and kisses.
.-= Mary @ Holy Mackerel´s last blog ..A Little Slice of Heaven on Earth =-.
Heidi says:
Thinking of you this weekend.
samantha says:
no, there is great wisdom in that, indeed… it is so true, to love with your whole heart leaves you more open to pain… but if you didn’t love with your whole heart, then if something were to happen, as it saddly did, there would be the lifetime left of regrets… I love my children with a fierce almost painful love BECAUSE of you and heather and maddie. I am very aware that as much as I protect them, i can only do so much because, well, their story is already written…. it literally breaks my heart everytime i see your sweet baby’s angelic face. i cant phathom… i will never understand… please know that i am thinking of you and heather and my prayers are always sent up to heaven with you in them…
Ann says:
thinking of you this Sunday, and what a wonderful, loving father you are to Maddie.
s.i. says:
I’m totally a worry wart too. I have a tendency to live in a constant state of worry about the well-being of my family, and if I don’t check myself on it, it can be all-consuming and even paralyzing at times. I don’t have any wisdom about it either…I just try to take it one day at a time.
.-= s.i.´s last blog ..Anti-Mom Antic #7 =-.
Michele says:
Happy Father’s Day
Katherine says:
I am one of the many people you don’t know who think of you guys every day. I’m so sorry you have to spend Father’s Day without your beautiful girl. I hope happy memories bring some happiness to the day.
Mindy says:
Happy Father’s Day. Sending you comfort and love.
Alexandra :) says:
I would say happy father’s day too, but I bet you’re not very happy thinking about it this year…
Fear about Rigby: I used to let my sheltie walk off leash. Then he got hit by a car. It was for a completely different reason-we were in public and the leash slipped off-but it didn’t matter. When I got my next puppy, she HAD to be in a shoulder harness and she HAD to be behind the baby gate when the door was open and when I started her off on a slip collar she HAD to have the harness on and when my little sister was walking her she HAD to have two leashes on so I could hold one…
Fear about Maddie: my aunt put her few-weeks-old baby in a bjorn and for no particular reason it fell to pieces. She caught the baby, but I bet she wouldn’t have been able to if there’d been a cell phone in one hand and a beer in the other hand…
In other words, all totally rational.
Mary says:
Mike, I just wanted to leave you a note to let you know I’m thinking about you today. Like many others, I only know you through the blog but I continue to feel heartache for your family at losing your little girl. I wish I had the perfect thing to say that would make it feel at least a little better, but I don’t. If I did, I would say it a thousand times over to you and Heather. But all I can offer is continued thoughts and prayers for you all. Take care of yourself and each other.
sam {temptingmama} says:
Happy Father’s Day Mike.
You’re in my thoughts. Always.
xox
.-= sam {temptingmama}´s last blog ..Fathers =-.
Krissy says:
Just wanted to make sure you know you’re being thought of today. Happy Father’s Day.
Chrissie says:
Happy Fathers Day Mike. Hugs to you and Heather.
Barbara Howard says:
I worried for a while when my first son was born, until I realized that every moment I spent worrying was a moment preoccupied from loving him, and I gave it up. When my second son was born, I read the quote to the effect that “becoming a parent is consenting to let your heart walk around outside your body” for the rest of your life. And it is. And so I let it go.
There is a very trite saying that also applies to parenting, out there for a long time now, to the effect of “work like you don’t need the monmey, dance like no one is watching…love like you’ve never been hurt.” The first time I read it years ago, I was struck by its audacity…and by how difficult it sometimes can be to actally do that…but I do it. After losing my father at the age of 8 (the oldest of 5 kids, my youngest sister was Maddie’s age when he was killed), I can tell you that I am who I am today, 51 years later, because he loved me like that, and I him.
Go ahead and worry. It can be a good thing…it protects Rigby. Just know that your control is limited, and you must allow yourself room to fully participate in life and in love, Mike. I know you did with Maddie. That’s why it hurts you so. And why it is so precious.
Krissa says:
I left a comment on Heather’s blog on the Father’s Day post, but just wanted to write here too, that I thought about you guys a lot today and yesterday. And I wished so much for Maddie to have had more time with you guys. And I wished for you guys that she were still here. … I don’t pray every day, but I have prayed for you all. And I will pray tonight that your love for each other, the three of you, will wrap you up and hold you tight and give you moments of peace. I know it will never be easy and I know nothing will make it right that she is gone, but I also know that the love you all share is greater than the boundaries of this earth. … (((Hugs))) and love to you all.
Karin Hanson says:
In a lot of ways, I think being that kind of worrier it probably means you love very, very deeply and have always been all too aware of the fragility of life. These are wonderful and sweet (and yes, horrendously scary) gifts. It almost feels like bad things should never happen to the “Loving Worrier”…it feels like “the dues are paid” by being vigilant and protective and loving full out.
I think that is why, from the moment we all knew of Maddie’s passing, there was just this feeling of being hit by the “wrongness” and “unfairness” of it. I do feel she is in a wonderful place with God, and is happy and content. But because she was such a sweet and wonderful presence, it broke our hearts to have you lose her… and because you and Heather were such loving parents (and worriers), it cracked them even more.
I’m so sorry for all that has happened, I truly wish that all of us “out here” could take on a piece of your grief and you would be free to only remember the joy.
And I don’t know if it helps, but I do know one thing for sure… Maddie was absolutely aware on every level, that her Daddy was watching out for her and loving her. What a wonderful blessing for her! She got to feel safe and loved and free and happy. That is one of your gifts to her. A huge one! Maybe it is even the whole “why” of you being born a worrier.
Christy says:
I think in my case, my worrying so much is my attempt to control things, and like you said, there are so many things we have no control over…maybe the worrying makes us feel a little less helpless somehow. I like to think that if love completely and resist the urge to hide some part of ourselves to stay safe, our lives are richer for it. But then there’s those times when putting yourself out there completely ends up hurting like you can’t believe. But I think (and I hope) it’s all worth it in the end.
Blessings, Love, and Light, Mike
.-= Christy´s last blog ..Details In The Fabric =-.
Krissa says:
Another of yours and Heather’s loyal readers here. Just stopping back by to comment on this post again again, because I am thinking of you guys every single day. (((Hugs)))
Lisa says:
Your words even are so beautiful written… its exactly how I have felt since the day my son Matthias was born, constantly a worry worte. I lost my first born son a few hours after his birth and I feel your pain. I read your blog and your wifes and pray for you often!
Blessings to you both
Lisa
.-= Lisa´s last blog ..The poops =-.
sam {temptingmama} says:
Thinking of you! xoxox
.-= sam {temptingmama}´s last blog ..The day I spewed my heirarchy of suffering* all over the internet =-.
Madge says:
I wish you could have that minute too. hugs to both of you.
Kristin says:
I was never a worrier until I had a child. I was never a worrier until I became a mother. I never had a sense of mortality until the day my son was born. Now I cant pull out of the driveway without my seatbelt on. I cringe every single time my husband throws are little, laughing baby boy into the air. There is no scarier realization then the realization that there are so many things out of our control. If only there was enough bubble wrap to secure all of our loved ones for life…
Your daughter was such a beautiful girl. My heart aches for you and your wife.