Is It Getting Heavy?

It just keeps happening. It's so heavy, and it's everywhere. It's Fort Hood, it's the DC sniper's execution, it's the woman shot point-blank in the face at the liquor store she worked at for nearly two decades, after she handed over the cash.

It's a friend's stepfather's cancer diagnosis, it's a family member's intense unhappiness with her professional life, it's a neighbor's concern over recent violence, so acute that he meets me when I walk home from the bus to see me safely to my door.

It's job instability, it's a prescription for intensified chemotherapy, it's a feeling of being trapped.

It's heavy. But I never think to myself, like Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips does, that it's already as heavy as can be. It can always get heavier.

Embarassing Revelation #2

Ok. This one's a little more serious than #1.

I'm scared of babies. I'm getting better about it -- my bff, the girl, now woman, with whom I literally had the necklace, just had her second baby, and she's helped me a lot with my comfort level around the little ones. She's such a natural mom, and so unconcerned that I'll drop her little bundles of joy and ruin their lives. With her adorable first, I wouldn't hold him that first day in the hospital unless I was sitting down, and I was terrified to hand him off lest I drop him in the exchange.

With #2, a beautiful little girl, I did a little better. As has become our tradition, her first morning in the hospital with her infant I went over at the beginning of visiting hours, laden with bagels and good coffee (decaf for her). This time, she handed me her daughter and I walked all over the room with her, talking to her and watching her respond to the light playing across her face. I bounced her and made the sitting-to-standing and back again transition a number of times and didn't stress out. It was a big step for me, and I left the hospital completely infatuated with the little girl.

I think the reason I'm so scared of babies is because I really did drop one once. I was young, maybe 10 years old, and sitting at the dinner table in a room full of adults. Someone handed me a baby -- I don't even remember whose baby it was, it was a gathering of adults I didn't really know -- and before I knew what happened, the baby had slid off my lap and onto the floor. It wasn't far to fall, and was actually, to my memory, reasonably gentle -- many people didn't even notice, and the baby wasn't upset -- but it scarred me. I wasn't ready to be responsible for a baby, and the baby fell.

I'm still a bit wary of them, obviously, but being around my bff's children and my other friends' babies is helping. I know it's not entirely rational, but I can't be the only one -- anyone else a little more scared than you should be of dropping babies?