I talk to my parents everyday. I usually call them shortly after LP and I walk in the house. The other night we didn't get home until 7 or so because we were paying a shiva call to a friend who had lost her mother. About 5 minutes after we walked in the house, my phone rang - it was my father. My mom made him call because she was concerned that she hadn't heard from me. The point - my mother is a worrier.
Last night as I was laying awake (all night!) in bed listening to LP cough and breathe, I reminded myself that I couldn't help it because I had inherited the worrying gene. My poor little girl is fine, she actually slept through the night. And me? I am getting used to propping myself up with caffeine and willpower.