Pride and Anxiety. With a Big Dollop of Fear on Top.

For the past 5 months, I have had time to mentally prepare myself for the boys leaving for the Navy. I thought I had prepared myself.

 I was wrong. Boy, was I wrong.

I already wrote a silly, emotional post about Brandon leaving, but that was before he left. I thought writing THAT gave me another step up on the preparation ladder.

I was wrong.

Nothing that I have thought or written about prepared me for how gut wrenching and hard it would be for me giving him that last hug and saying that last I love you and  I am proud of you.

Nothing.

I dropped him off Monday afternoon at the Navy recruiting office, and I thought that would be the hardest part.

I was wrong.

Tuesday morning, I had the great honor and privilege of watching my oldest child be sworn into the US Navy. When I arrived at the Robert A. Young Federal Building in St. Louis, I wasn’t sure what to expect. After going through security, I was directed to the 10^th floor, and there I found Brandon sitting in a chair in a room full of about 20 other recruits who were either watching tv or sleeping. Brandon told me they had been there, just sitting there, since 6:30 AM. It was 9 when I arrived. At 9:30 the first group was called back, and Brandon was part of that group. I was directed to a waiting room along with the other parents who were there. After I read a book for about 20 minutes, we were called into a room across the hall, where I saw this

 

I was surprised by the room…I thought it would be more “official” looking, but it was just a room with a podium at the front flanked by flags on each side. We were told we could take photographs, so I snapped a few.

After they were each sworn in and told, “Congratulations! You are now a member of the United States military,” it was sort of anti-climatic, and everyone began taking pictures.

 The new soldier/sailors were then ushered into an adjoining room to be “processed,” and we once again had to wait. And wait.

 The waiting gave me way too much time to think. I met another couple who was sending their only child off to Army boot camp. I had a wonderful conversation with the dad, who is retired from the Army and used to be a drill sergeant at boot camp. He did his best to assure me that boot camp is harder on moms than on the guys, and he told me that most new recruits end up really enjoying boot camp after the initial toughness of the first week.

I drove home in a much calmer mood than I had been in that morning on my way there when I felt like I needed one of those bags they give you on a plane in case you get sick. That calmness stayed with me throughout most of the day, however, as it wore on, panic began to set in, and I thought of every single little thing that can go wrong while Brandon is at boot camp. I tried to distract myself by playing games and looking for recipes on the internet, but it didn’t work. I was too jittery and too restless to read, and I sat here feeling lonely and worried.

Sigh. And I get to go through this all over again in 2 weeks.

I don’t think I’ll be as worried about Justin, though. I have sooo very many worries about Brandon. He’s always had a difficult time making friends and middle school and high school were not good years for him. I want the Navy to be really awesome for him. I want it to be something that makes him feel proud of himself…GOOD about himself. Better than he has ever felt about himself. I want it to be life changing in a great way. I am so afraid, though, that it’s going to end up being one more thing that makes him feel like crap. I worry that he will be teased and will end up regretting that he joined the Navy. I worry that he won’t be able to “hack” it, and he will be discharged and sent home. I feel so protective of him right now, more protective than I have ever felt, and the thought of him being away for so long, experiencing God knows what, quite honestly scares the shit out of me.

 Sigh. Again.

I had thought/hoped that the anticipation of him leaving would be the worst part of the whole thing, but it’s not. I had thought/hoped that once he was gone, my stomach knots would unclench and I would settle in and get used to it and relax. But, I am feeling worse with each passing hour. My stomach is upset. I’ve had a headache for 2 days. I can’t sleep. I have no one to tell these things. Who isn’t going to think I’ve gone over the edge if I tell them those things??? I feel so silly for feeling this way, but I don’t remember a time when I have felt so incredibly anxious. It’s going to be hard not knowing what is going on with him for 8 weeks. So hard! I don’t know how I’m going to make it to be honest.

Sigh. Again.

I am trying to focus on how wonderful so many people are being to me right now. All of my co-workers text me to see how I am doing, and give me a hug when I get to work. Tuesday morning, all of my aunts, my cousin and my sister texted me early in the morning to see how I was holding up. They also texted me throughout the day, and last night, one of my aunts texted me again to see how I was doing. I text them back and say I am fine because if I told them the truth about how I  am REALLY feeling, they'd probably call the men in white coats. Unfortunately, my mother has been strangely silent, but I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.

Sigh. AGAIN.

I am getting too carried away, so I am going to stop. I pray that in 9 weeks, I will read this and laugh at my silliness. For now, I’m going to hold onto this image of  Brandon. When I first arrived Tuesday morning, he had an exhausted, deer-in-the-headlights-oh-shit-what-have-I-done look on his face. I had a difficult time even looking at him after that because I wanted to grab him by the arm and drag him away. Thankfully, once the swearing in was over, he was all smiles. I love this picture of him, and I printed a copy of it to carry in my purse.