You Only Live Once, This Is How I’m Doing It!

Tag: panic

We have a doctor

Well today went fabulously. The practice is warm and friendly and everyone was very nice and put me at ease. We met with a nurse practitioner who doesn’t actually do deliveries but she was so bubbly and easy to talk to. She took the time to answer all of my questions and I loved her answers which is probably even more important. Joel was pretty quiet (except about the floors. They had these natural looking cork floors and whenever we were alone he went on and on about how cool they were. He even took a picture. He makes me giggle.) but when we left he said he felt really good about everything as well.

We set up our next appointment with the actual OB to do an ultrasound and measure exactly how far along the baby is. According to the chart I’m due on October 18th but once we do the ultrasound and measure the fetus things will be much more official. I think once we finally get an ultrasound things will start to sink in. With barely any symptoms it’s hard to believe I’m actually pregnant still. It feels like a dream I’m going to wake up from at any moment or something.

Speaking of dreams, I’m a bit embarrassed that I had my first real panic last night about all this. I haven’t been sleeping very well at night lately but since I knew I had to get up in time for my appointment I tried to force myself to go to bed and sleep. I tossed and turned for ages and all I had to do was lie there and think. Of course the mind hardly ever goes to happy fun places when you’re desperately trying to sleep while watching the hours left until the alarm goes off get shorter and shorter.

I started to think about what a big freaking deal this is. I mean, I’m going to be responsible for a human! And they’re never safe. Ever! I’ve been around the internet enough to know that tragedies happen and it’s rarely expected. Once we make it past the first trimester it doesn’t make my pregnancy safe. And then once the pregnancy is over I have this tiny fragile person to keep alive. And on and on it goes.

Of course I also thought about how worthless I am without sleep. And what really made me panic was the thought that come October I’m never going to sleep again. Ever. And then I had the horrible thought that I wished I could take it all back. I love my life the way it is and why in the world would I want to change it? Which of course made me feel horribly guilty. This of course made me cry even harder. I’m so lucky to have a wonderful husband that noticed my crying and rolled over to cuddle me and help me feel better and I fell asleep shortly after.

Poor guy isn’t even a dad yet and he’s already getting woken up by a sobbing human. At least I’m fully potty trained.

Of course in the light of day everything seems brighter. I’m already madly in love with this kid inside me, even though things have still yet to feel really real. Of course I want this baby and would be devastated if anything was wrong. I feel like the worst of persons for even thinking about taking it back. What kind of mother thinks that?

I did think it though and I don’t want to be fake here. It was just a horrible moment brought on by over tiredness and hormones but it was a moment.

Thankfully for the most part I’ve been unreasonably happy. I suppose it’s only natural for things to swing the other way from time to time. Right?

“I might have broken something.”

“I might have broken something.”

I get this text as I’m walking out the door to pick Joel up from work. Joel works in a warehouse. Ladders, heavy duty equipment, large appliances, sharp things. My first thought is “thank God we have insurance” followed immediately by a mental image of spending a long night in the ER. Because the fact that we don’t have socialized medicine makes our emergency rooms super fast and efficient (not!).

Now the hope thought crossed my mind that he could be talking about a piece of equipment or merchandise. But why would he have phrased the text that way then? He had to know it would scare me. Plus, wouldn’t it be obvious if he had broken, say, a tv? So I went immediately back to panicking.

At this point I’m already out the door, phone and puppy in hand, desperately waiting for a response to my: “Broke something in the store or on your body?” text. I brought the puppy because I figured if we were going to be out all night in the ER she should get the chance to go potty first.

By the time I get out of the building and in the grass, hurriedly begging Phoebe to “Go potty, please!”, I’ve sent another text, or two.

How can he not have responded yet?!

Oh my god, this must mean he’s hurt. Otherwise my kind, thoughtful husband would never leave me worried and hanging like this. I start to picture what may have happened. Did he fall off something? Did something fall on him? Is it just a break or is he bleeding too? He was ok enough to text me so at least he’s conscious. But what if he’s not now and that’s why he hasn’t responded?

Good grief Dog, of course you pick now to poop! I pick it up as fast as possible and literally run to the dumpster. I try to open the lid and throw it in but fail and drop the bag on the ground. While bending over to pick it up, I may have gotten my scarf in dumpster juice. *gag*

Finally I get in the car. At this point it’s been 20 minutes. Ok more like two. But my imagination is still going and I’ve worked myself nearly into tears. Maybe we can sue the store, err, get workman’s comp.

The windows are foggy but I’m not waiting. I have a hurt husband waiting for me and if I run you over on my way to get him well, better take down my license plate number. Our neighbor, out walking her dog, may or may not have had to jump out of my way. Uh, sorry.


A text!

He’s conscious thank God!

“No. Lol. I may have broken the back dock door ramp thing.”


I’m crying over a damn door?

Now I’m mad.

Well, he may not have broken a bone but when I get done with him… we may be making a trip to the ER after all.

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