One distinct change since losing my son is that I seem to live in fear. Fear of something bad happening to my daughters. It's a horrible feeling. I can't seem to shake it. I know we all worry about our children to some degree, but sometimes this feels, I don't know, stifling, overwhelming. Every time I put the baby to sleep I want to check and make sure she's breathing. If my older one has a cold, I go a little crazy. Is the baby going to catch it, is it going to turn into something worse, are we going to have to go to the hospital? I just want to feel "normal" again. Not worry all the time. Some days, I just want to wrap the girls up and protect them from the world. Yes, intellectually I know that it's not possible. I do let them go out. My older daughter goes to preschool, goes on play dates, climbs to the top of the climbing apparatus at the park. I get out of the house without them sometimes. But what I guess I want back (in addition to my son) is my innocence. You know, that ability to believe that everything is going to be ok. That if I'm a good person, live a good, moral life, than bad things won't happen to me.