I?ve come to realize that the first year of motherhood is a delicate balance of fear and trust: that the baby will wake up every morning, that he?ll swallow his food without choking, that he?ll still be there when I pick him up at daycare. I?ve struggled with anxiety issues most of my life, and motherhood has meant pushing my comfort zone beyond what I ever thought possible?not only so that I can function but also so that my son won?t grow up to be a 25-year-old who still needs his mother to cut his food into tiny pieces and remind him to ?chew and swallow!?
I?ve made leaps and bounds this year, knocking items off my list. Breastfeed in public: check! Sit in the front seat of the car instead of beside the baby and hug the bucket seat as extra protection in case we crash: check! Let my mom babysit without calling her every 20 minutes to make sure that the baby gates are still shut and the electrical sockets are still covered: check! But my biggest and most debilitating challenge loomed over me like a shadow. Finally, with just a week left of my maternity leave, I faced it head on.
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   Relearning how to pee

I leaned over the car seat and kissed my one-year-old son, inhaled slowly to emblazon the smell of his curly hair permanently...