I remember when I told my mother over the phone that I had jumped out of an airplane. I told her, after the fact, because I was pretty sure she would have tried to talk me out of skydiving, and then would have worried incessantly until my feet were planted firmly on the earth again. At the time, I didn’t truly understand how she felt. But now that I am a parent, I understand completely that worry is a significant part of our path, and one that we don’t often talk about.

There’s nothing good about a call in the middle of the night. I have my phone set so only a handful of phone calls will ring through after midnight, the rest are silenced. Clearly, my daughters’ calls are priorities. So, when I got a WhatsApp call this past week at 2:30 a.m. I knew it was not good news.

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It took me a minute to focus on my younger daughter’s voice. She was on spring break with a large group of her classmates at a resort in Mexico.

“Mom, I got hit in the head with a bottle. I need to see a doctor,” she said fairly calmly given the situation. I could hear a cacophony of music and people talking in the background.

“What? How did this happen? Was it on purpose? How badly are you hurt? Do you need stitches?” The questions rolled out of my mouth like a freight train. Instinctively, I knew this wasn’t helpful, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Mom, I’m just calling to tell you I’m going to see a doctor. They won’t take my insurance here, so, I have to pay out of pocket. I don’t know if it was intentional. I don’t know if I need stitches, that’s why I need to see a doctor,” she said trying to answer my questions, but also to trying to triage the most important information quickly.

“Okay, obviously. Pay what you need to pay to see a doctor. But you can’t go alone. Is someone with you?”

She assured me that she was a friend from school, and that he would accompany her to see the doctor.

I hung up and laid there in the dark, beginning a long night of worrying. I had been worried about the trip from the beginning. We had talked through safety concerns – always staying with your friends, never going off on your own or letting a friend go off on her own. But this wasn’t something I had anticipated – getting hit in the head with a bottle. That’s the thing about parenting. You convince yourself that you’ve covered all your bases when it comes to worrying, minimizing risk where you can. Yet, there will always be things as a parent you don’t and can’t possibly anticipate. Getting hit in the head with a bottle is one of them.

A few hours later, I got a text from my daughter that she had seen a doctor. They cleaned up the wound, bandaged it, and told her she thankfully did not need stitches. She was headed to the airport in a few hours and told me she would see a doctor when she got home to confirm she was okay. And no, it was not intentional. The bottle was thrown into the air, and it happened to hit her on the head. It was just bad luck that she happened to be standing where she was.

Even with the positive update, I’m pretty sure I never got back to sleep, and can you blame me? In a way, as parents, we have made the decision never to truly sleep well again. No matter where they are or what they are doing, we will always worry. Sure, we might be able to put the worry aside for moments here and there. But it is always there, lingering in the background reminding us that we love something far greater than ourselves.

Amanda is a mom of two and an author of several books including some on motherhood. She is also a WRAL reporter and successful podcaster. She began writing Go Ask Mom columns in January 2010 and took a short break in late 2021. Now, you can find her posts monthly on WRAL Family.