I am more careful these days.  Since meeting Sabrina, I have this irrational fear that I will be killed in some horrible accident and never see the joy of bringing her home.  How’s that for morbid?  When we flew back from Guatemala, we had a rather ugly landing in Atlanta.  I was terrified.  I actually ended up in tears while waiting for the ball of flames to engulf us after the seeming inevitable slam into the runway.  I was sitting in my seat, clutching some photos of Sabrina, wondering why God would be so cruel.  Yeah, I know, melodramatic much? 

While driving on the highways, I am convinced a semi will lose control and smash into me.  When driving on country roads, I am sure that a deer will jump in front of the car and his hoof will go through the windshield and then my forehead.  Starting the dryer before bed, I wait for the lint to ignite and burn the house down.  Walking downtown, I wait for someone to open fire on the crowd.  Going down the basement steps, I envision falling and hitting my head on the stone window sill.  I’ve seen all 3 Final Destination movies, so trust me, my imagination gets way more bizarre than those examples. 

I am not normally this morbid.  It’s only been since our trip to Guatemala.  I have mentioned in the past, that I keep waiting for the adoption equivalent of miscarriage because I can’t believe that we are finally going to have a family.  I still worry about losing our referral – I will breath much easier after our social worker interview happens.  But I guess since we’ve passed the most dangerous point for losing a referral (DNA), my brain has moved on to new ways to torture me.  Don’t worry, it hasn’t reached the point of psychological disorder.  I recognize how irrational the thoughts are.  I laugh at myself even as I am thinking the thoughts (except the bad landing in Atlanta).  I continue to function through my day…these things just pass through my mind and they make me laugh because who knew becoming a mom would make me nuts in this way?