Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Hormones and Hamsters and Some Major Anxiety

Saturday night as I was entering the first part of sleep (I should know which part of the sleep cycle that is) I suddenly heard a crash. It took me a few moments to realize it sounded like a metal cage. My thoughts automatically raced to our two year old hamster. I scream “Jack!” as I flew out of bed just knowing that the dogs were able to knock him down. It seemed like it took me five minutes to get to the bedroom door – during that time thoughts of finding my hamster (did I just say “my hamster”?) hurt or even dead went through my head. I swung the door open to see my husband - he had knocked something into Duke’s crate which made the noise. I automatically started balling – it was an overwhelming surge of tears, somewhat uncontrollable. “I thought he was dead” I said. Shelby came out and asked “what is wrong with mommy?” JAG said “she’s just pregnant.” I flipped for a good five minutes; my husband calmly walked me to bed and helped me in. He never said that I was crazy; he just said “everything is ok.”

That had to be hormones. I just have never felt such an overwhelming feeling of them and over a hamster. He has for a fact become my hamster. I feed him, clean his cage and we have talks. I can call his name and he comes right up to the edge of the cage taking his snack and quickly shoving it in is mouth for later. But seriously, should I have so much attachment to a two year old hamster?

Now last night I believe I had a major anxiety attack.

As we were driving home from Vacation Bible School I realized that Bekah had not moved most of the day. I remember that she gave me a nice kick as soon as I woke up at 6 am that morning, but nothing since then. She always moves at night  - for the past few weeks she has been giving some serious kicks before bed, but last night as I sat in the chair in the living room there was nothing. I shook her (not hard) and got no response. I my anxiety was growing – as my family moved about their normal routines I was alone in the living room and started to cry. I had what I felt was mother’s intuition that something was wrong. Of course JAG walked through mid-sob and quickly knelt beside me – he said “she will move, it will be ok, she is fine.” Which led me to cry even more because of the thought of us possibly losing her and what that would do to him. He had an idea for me to get in bed and play her music since we have learned she likes INXS better that classical. I quickly grabbed the ipod and played some classic INXS tunes – nothing. Well I think nothing I was freaking out, so there may have been something small, but not enough for me. I prayed, decided if I still felt nothing over night I would call the doctor, and then I went to sleep.

At 3 am Duke got sick in the bedroom floor – I know lovely right? JAG and I both got up. I cleaned it up, then went to the bathroom and got back in bed. The tears started. Normally if I get up in the night it wakes her up and then I have trouble going back to bed, but nothing. I think this is where the actual attack began. I guess it is because I know too many women (even one is too many) who have lost their pregnancy at this stage, but the thoughts in my head where:

She is big enough I will have to deliver her.
Would we have a service for her?
Would we keep her name just as it is?
Would she be buried?
I had read on facebook a comment about how babies die in the womb and the mother continues to carry the baby and then by some miracle of God the baby becomes alive again – I am not sure what I believe, but it crossed my mind.
I thought how I would react – of course I would flip – this is me we are talking about here.

I couldn’t stop – I just knew in my gut that there was something wrong and this was it. I knew it and there was not telling me otherwise. I was crying so hard I couldn’t breathe. JAG just held me, told me it was going to be fine. Then he prayed – that calmed me. Again, the decision was made to call the doctor first thing in the morning so I could get in and hear a heartbeat – hopefully. I breathed through my tears rolled over and tried to sleep. I keep singing “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding” – that is normally where I go when I am in the middle of one of these “attacks.”

Then I felt it, I quickly rolled to my back and felt two more. Two more hard kicks to my left side. What did I do? I started to cry. Through my crying barely recognizable I said “I am so sorry.” JAG rolled over it and said “it’s ok.” My response was “she just kicked,” then I balled some more.

This is the point in the story where my mother calls me a full-out drama queen and I have to admit I lost it last night. It’s scary that I could work myself up that much, but my gut was telling me something – probably that I needed to chill. I wasn’t this bad with Shelby, but I did think I was going to miscarry everytime I went to the bathroom – even at 7 months. I know some people (like my mother) can go through all this with no worries, but I do know for a fact there are other people just as nervous as me.

I will get through it and I will promise to breathe and to pray until she gets here and then I will do it all over again. This poor girl is probably going to have a mother that wakes her up five times a night just to make sure she still breathing – I hope not – I really hope I calm before them.

As my mother said this morning – I am so lucking to have JAG. He is so calming and isn’t quick to flip out over me flipping out – he listens and hugs and prays – I am so blessed to have him.

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