That Feeling...

 

It doesn't happen that often.  In fact, I'd venture to say it rarely happens at all.
Maybe that's why it worries me so much more when it does happen.

That feeling...

That feeling that other cop, firefighter, military and first responder spouses feel from time to time.

That feeling that something bad is going to happen to Andy today.

The first time I felt that feeling was the very first night he worked patrol.  I was at home.  He was working his first shift and it was an overnight.  I laid awake for a long time, praying for his safety every time I would hear sirens.  My prayers were answered that night and every day since when he walks through our front door safely.

And frankly, that was one of the last times I worried.  I have a peace about what he does for a living which is good...if I didn't, it would be stressful for both of us.  I've seen his skill level and I know his mindset about how he approaches each call he goes on.  It's never a "routine" call in his mind.  If calls and situations become routine...that's how cops get lazy and that's how cops get hurt.  They have to approach each call with the idea in the back of their minds that it's a potential life-threatening situation and if it goes that way, how are they going to handle it? 

But sometimes, even with that knowledge about my husband, I can allow those calls to become "routine" to myself.  Oh...you were chasing down warrants all day?  Good.  You got to kick in a door?  I bet that was fun.  You had to point your AR 15 at someone today?  Cool.  You saw a dead body that had been rotting for a few weeks?  Gross.  What did it look like? Oh...you were the one that found that kid that committed suicide?  How did he do it?   

And just like that, the stories...his days...our emotions about what is going on becomes routine.  Not only is it a defense mechanism, but it's kind of sad, too.  That's why when these feelings strike me...I pay attention.  All of a sudden, the routine becomes...well...not.  And it scares me.  

This morning as Andy was leaving, I remembered he was going on a search warrant.

"Hey...aren't you doing something kind of dangerous today?"
"Umm, yeah...it could go that way."
"You're going to wear your vest, aren't you?"
"Yes.  Of course!"
"Okay.  Please be careful."

And then I recognized that sinking feeling.  I start to ask questions I normally wouldn't.  I feel that urge to give him one extra hug.  One extra kiss.  I linger at the door with Sammy to watch his truck drive away a lot longer than I normally would, allowing my mind to wonder if this would be the last time I see him.  I feel the need to call.  To text.  To tell him I have a bad feeling so please be extra careful.  And as I say the words, I feel the tears begin to slip from my eyes.  Ugh!  That feeling.

Then I try to brush it off.  I'm just pregnant and emotional.  I'm being irrational.  I'm being too dramatic.

But regardless of where the feelings are coming from...regardless of whether I am pregnant, emotional and dramatic...they are there.  And they are real.  And a few extra prayers today won't hurt.

And a blog post about it.  Because it's cathartic for me.  With an old picture from last winter.  Because who takes pictures for a blog post when they are worried?  Who writes blog posts when they are worried?  Maybe that feeling is going away...see?  It's cathartic!