Sometimes thoughts just show up uninvited, no matter what time it is. Don’t you hate that? Haha. It’s 4am, I just fed my cat her 3:45 meal (yes, she runs this house), and I should be sleeping. But instead, I curl back up next to Alice, give her a soft kiss on her little noggin, and then boom. My brain says, “Hey, let’s unpack trust real quick.”

That little word. Trust.

It’s a big thing for such a small word.

You trust people, even blindly sometimes, and then accidents happen. And when they do, it makes trusting again feel impossible. I already think through every possible outcome of everything in my life, trying to avoid any missteps or danger. And yet, accidents still happen.

Here’s a story I’ve never told:

When Alice was born, she didn’t latch right away. So, by day two, she hadn’t eaten much. I had to supplement with donor milk, which caused a delay in her pooping, one of the main checkboxes they want before they discharge a newborn. By the end of day two, she had a small poop, but the pediatrician really wanted to see another one just to be sure everything was working how it should. She suggested an X-ray, just to check her little tummy out.

The nurse we had that shift was lovely. I truly liked her. But no matter how lovely someone is, accidents still happen.

So, the X-ray tech rolls in with a portable machine. The nurse suits up, and because she’s closest to Alice, she grabs a thyroid shield. Those magnetic closure ones. They’re heavy, like 1 to 1.5 pounds. I’m standing there, watching her move into position, and I’ll never forget what happened next.

The shield slips.

It falls in what felt like slow motion, and hits the edge of the bassinet. It made that kind of thud that gives you goosebumps. You know the kind. The kind that shoots adrenaline through your chest before you even realize what just happened. It didn’t hit Alice. But it was so close.

The nurse and I locked eyes. We both froze. Silently breathing out a “thank God.” She quickly reattached it, and we both carried on like it didn’t happen. But it did. And it stuck with me.

I know it was an accident. I truly do. I know she didn’t mean to. But I was a brand-new mom, with no sleep, crazy hormones, and a brain that had already gone into overdrive. That moment right there? That’s when the switch flipped.

Ever since, it feels like it’s my job to think of everything before it happens. Every possible bad outcome, every angle, every risk. I know that’s not realistic. I do. But try telling my brain that.

Because at the end of the day, it all comes back to trust. And if I’m being honest, there is no one I trust more to think through every scenario than… me. My heart. My gut. My brain.