If the boy is taking a particularly long nap, I sometimes panic. I hold my breath and tiptoe into his room and try to push out of my mind all the possible ways he could be maimed or harmed that happened while I was doing other things. I arrive at the side of his crib and lay one hand on his back to check his breathing, then finally start breathing again myself.
I know I am completely neurotic, but I refuse to believe I am the only mother who does this.
Often my prayer is, Dear Lord, please don't let fear and doubt keep me from being the mother Sam needs me to be.
Then I remind myself of 2 Timothy 1:7, and I try to live my life there.