My greatest fears used to be very bad reviews, plummeting to my death in a plane crash, or hurting the feelings of someone I love, but now at the very top of the list is DROPPING MY BABY. Stepping wrong on a weird part of the carpet, tripping on my own shoe, he goes flying, it’s my fault. He’s so vulnerable and small and I think of all the times I’ve dropped things, books and packages and vitamin waters. As I move through my own house carrying him, a house that I’ve walked through, with confidence?, for years, I suddenly find myself questioning whether or not I really, actually know how to Walk. I mean, do I know? What if I forget? IS IT ONE FOOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER, OR THE OTHER IN FRONT OF ONE FOOT? I feel like it’s a good, healthy, preservation of the human race type fear, one that just makes me careful and thoughtful every time I hold him. But I do wonder if this fear is a part of a greater list, if becoming a parent is an unravelling of oneself and putting back together again. What do I believe? What do I stand for, and against? What kind of person am I REALLY? Am I a person who will wear my baby IN A SHIRT TO FEEL CLOSE TO HIM AND REDUCE THE CHANCE OF MY DROPPING HIM? (YES, I AM. If you are too, please find said shirts here, by Lalabu.)