Anxiety Not At All At Bay Whatsoever

After weeks of struggling, last night, the anxiety got the best of me.

Maybe it was the three-day weekend, the feeling that I had done a lot without getting enough rest, the worry about how my activity is impacting Le Bud (if at all at this point).

I was lying in bed at 10’o clock, worried that I hadn’t felt Le Bud move in a while. Now, at 18 weeks, feeling the baby move is not a given. I had been feeling little random bumps since week 16, but I’m still 2 weeks away from feeling baby move consistently.

I know this; I knew it last night, and I still pretty much freaked myself out.

After 20 minutes of debate with myself, I went down and shared my fears with Dan, and then collapsed in a sobbing heap of helplessness on the couch.

I didn’t want to worry him, but I was driving myself crazy. I couldn’t sleep, and knew I wouldn’t sleep until I got some kind of reassurance.

Dan called the midwife on call, and talked to her when she called back.

I spent the next few hours second-guessing as to whether those random bumps I felt after downing some lemonade and a chocolate chip cookie were movement from Le Bud or wishful thinking or just gas.

And then today, we heard his/her heartbeat, and everything was okay again.

But I can’t do this for the next 20-some weeks.

The ironic thing is that finding time or ways to relieve my anxiety at this point are, in themselves, stressful. Schedule a massage — of course, that’s a great idea. And then I have to find a babysitter, and drive all over creation, and make sure I can actually afford such a thing. Get some talk therapy — again, brilliant and I need it. But then it’s more than an hour away from my desk during the day, or if I find an after 5-p.m. time, then someone has to pick up & take care of my kids in the evening.

Although technically medication is an option, both Dan and I are leery of such a step. I mean, Dan went so far as to say, “I’d rather you had a drink than take anti-anxiety meds.” (I’m not going to drink, either, though.)

Deep breathing and prayer got me to 18 weeks. But I need something else to get me to baby-time.

I wonder how much one of those home doppler heartbeat monitors is going for these days.