We had a scare yesterday. And I'm still reeling. The aftershocks of being that scared are really hard to shake. I hesitate to even blog about this because at the moment I'm fairly calm. I don't want to go there.
Though it's lessened, I still can't seem to turn it off. The fear, the worry, the thoughts, the FEAR. I'm pretty sure I had a panic attack this afternoon. I couldn't stop the thoughts. They took over and all I could hear in my head was the negative; the things that could go wrong, things that might be happening as a lie in bed feeling Hannah's movements. I started to get shaky and nauseated. Then the tears came. The ugly-can't stop-have trouble breathing-don't know what you're saying through sobbing-tears.
I've since calmed down...I started to pray (Chris was praying too and I'm pretty sure he called my friend L. to pray too) and I felt the calm come, slowly but it has come. I'm still feeling fairly anxious (more than usual) and the thoughts of what could happen are still here.
About a week ago, Chris accused me of being a kick junkie; always waiting for Hannah's next kick. I would feel her move, rejoice and revel in it and then the next minute, I was waiting for the next.
Since yesterday's scare when Hannah made some movements I've never felt before and I really thought that she was in distress, I've been anxious over each movement she makes. I know this can all be traced back to Owen's death. I remember his last movements. The ones I thought he was playing and being silly in reality were movements of distress when he was dying.
The feelings of anxiety when she doesn't move are just as bad as the anxiety I feel when she does move.
I'm so tired of being on edge. I know I don't feel this bad all the time and I know that not every day in between now and Hannah's birth will this scary and anxiety-ridden, but right now.... this really sucks. I'm so READY for her safe arrival. I just want her to make it here alive. And, I know how this will sound, but if I could induce next week I would. I just want her to make it out of my body alive.
I almost ended the post with the previous sentence, but it just felt too morbid. Seriously, though, that's how I feel. I feel like a death trap. My body doesn't feel like the safest place for her and I'm worried that the longer she stays in, the more danger there is. Irrational? Maybe. Valid? Who knows... but with my experience with Owen, it feels very true.
I am really praying that these feelings and thoughts would stay away for the next 9 weeks and 4 days. Please keep praying for us. I know you are... and you don't know how much that means to us. Thank you for being such loving and supportive friends.