I started having “the visions” as soon as we brought William home from the hospital.
Crossing the street, I picture a car hitting my son, babbling away in his stroller.
Lifting my kicky baby out of the bathtub, I picture his slippery body sliding through my arms and his head meeting the cool, tiled bathroom floor.
Grabbing his chubby, rubber band wrists before he plunges his hands into his (dirty) diaper, I picture him flipping off the changing table.
I mentioned these visions to my therapist and she asked if I’d ever actually dropped my son or lost control of the stroller. The answer was no.
What she said next was really helpful: “This shows how much you love your son – and also reminds you to be present when with him.”