The struggle with worry

Every day is a struggle....but not with my grief.  I accept grieving; I know that every day something will make me cry.  I know that I will miss Ian every moment of the day.  What I struggle the most with, is worry; or rather, trying not to worry.  Just because I believe that God has a plan doesn't mean that I'm happy with the plan or nor afraid of His plan.  I've seen both sides of God's plan - the elation when things work out the way you had hoped and the pain when it doesn't.  I truly believe that God was doing what was best for Ian when He took him away from us, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and I'm afraid of feeling that pain again with my other kids.  I used to say that God knew I couldn't survive the loss of one of my children but I guess I was wrong; I was hoping if I kept saying it, God wouldn't make me find out.  So, by my logic, that means that God could do it again, if it was part of His plan.

But, I've also seen God protect my children, namely Alex, from extreme circumstances that should have killed him.  This week a routine blood test showed that Alex's red blood cell counts were elevated.  Come to find out, they've been elevated for the last four years but his new doctor is questioning them.  When the doctors office called to say they were referring Alex to a hematologist, Dr. DiCarlo, my stomach sank.  I love Dr. DiCarlo but I never wanted to see him again.  So far, the docs are leaning towards Alex's sleep apnea causing the elevated  levels but there's always that nagging possibility that it's something more devious, more complicated, more life threatening that is the cause and I can't let it go.  I keep having this dialogue in my head with God; me worrying about Alex and God sending me reassurances.  They work for a while, but then I slide back into worry and doubt; then God sends more reassurances....I fight my doubt and worry and even pride, daily - hourly.
I have the reputation of being 'The Mom", tenacious, the Mama Bear protecting her cubs and I fought for Alex.  I trusted my instincts and they were usually right.  With Ian, I was all wrong.  I fought just as hard, I was just as tenacious but this time my instincts were all wrong and Ian died.  I realized how prideful I had become...my instincts, my tenaciousness could save Ian but nothing I did could save him.
It's easy to be thankful when your prayers are answered the way you wanted, hoped for.  What's hard is being thankful in the middle of a nightmare, when your greatest fears have come true.