New baby, new worries...

Little Em has taught me so much in the last 21 months, but often I think the main thing I have learned as a new mama is the depth of my capacity for worry. I worry about her diet, whether she is happy, the kind diapers I'm using, whether my 'halfway' attachment parenting style will cause her to be an unbalanced adult, and mostly, how I can keep her shielded from all my worry. I can easily keep myself awake at night dwelling on how I would keep us together and healthy should we be forced to survive in a Cormac McCarthy-style apocalyptic wasteland.
Because, you know... it could happen.
I remember a conversation I had with a college roomate about something I was concerned about and the freedom I felt when he cut off my rant with "Well, of course you're worried. That's what you do. You are a worrier." It was actually a wonderful moment for me, to realize that it was simply in my nature to stress a bit. Not to freak out, but to run at a a slightly higher worry metabolism than other people might. It was simply part of who I was, not anything to worry about.
Until I had baby Em. Now it has gone from a low boil to a dull roar.
I would love to find a way to shut all this out, but it seems that I have a deep seated belief that as long as I worry, I will be able to more adequately protect her from, oh, anything. Its as though I would like to absorb all the negative things, so that she will never have to see them. I would like to keep the world my daughter lives in as unspoiled by greed, pain or oppression. A world that is clean and kind. Which I know is neither true nor possible. I suppose I must try to keep this corner safe, and as kind as possible so that when she sees the bad, she will know she has a safe place to come home to. And I will greet her with open arms, and all the while worrying and hoping I've done my best.