I’m worried about how much I worry. Seriously, it’s out of control. I worry about everything. The focus of most of my worry is on my family’s health and my own. But there are plenty of other things that cause me to have mini anxiety attacks on a daily basis.
I worry about hurricanes and tornadoes. I worry about what college my children will get into (my oldest is about 8 years away from that, but it’s never too early to worry). I worry about snakes in the backyard. I worry about a damn deer jumping out in front of my husband’s car on his way to work . I worry about food poisoning constantly. The list goes on and on. There’s no rhyme or reason to it.
I think I was always a “Nervous Nelly” but it has become progressively worse with each child. I think the enormous responsibility that comes with being a parent has a great deal to do with it. My husband and these four babies that we are blessed with, mean everything to me. Thinking about something happening to them or something happening to me, is frightening.
I was the worst pregnant lady. I had easy, healthy and problem free pregnancies, but you would not have known it. I’m honestly surprised that my husband didn’t divorce me during each one. He bore the brunt of the worry. The countless hours I spent “researching” certain problems turned into countless hours discussing said problems with my husband. I think he learned how to comfort me by tuning me out.
When I was pregnant with my first child I was a maniac about eating all the “right” things and exercising. I don’t think I have ever eaten so many fruits and vegetables in my life. I was also walking 5 miles a day…… in the summer…… in Florida. No surprise, I was exhausted. I called the doctor about 5 times explaining how tired I was and was told each time, it was normal. I tried telling them that it couldn’t be, I’m not a person that takes naps or sleeps in, I told them. They finally agreed to see me and run some tests. I waited anxiously in the doctor’s office. He came in and sat down. He said “Well, I figured out what the issue is.” Oh God, this is it I thought. I just KNEW something was wrong. He said ” You’re 6 months pregnant.Now go home, take a nap and relax.” What? I need a second opinion.
Recently, I got an IUD. For those of you who don’t know what that stands for, it’s intrauterine device. As in birth control they put inside you. I was panicked for months about doing this, but we already have four kids and, let’s be honest, the jury’s still out on whether or not I can handle them.We don’t need to add another one.
I was a wreck the week leading up to my appointment. I didn’t sleep at all the night before and I couldn’t eat either. I just wanted to get it over with. I got to the office and they called me back pretty quickly. The nurse told me to get ready and that the doctor would be right in. I need to explain that the whole thing was made even more awkward because my doctor is a man and he’s cute. Take my advice and just don’t go to a cute gynecologist. It’s wrong on so many levels. Anyway, he comes in and says ” Okay, let’s get started.” He started and DING, DANG it hurt! I said ” Um, that hurt. Is that normal?” He assured me that it was, but of course I didn’t believe him. I mean I just spent like, 2 days on Web MD reading about this. It’s fresh in MY mind, not his. Anyway, the whole thing was over in about 5 minutes. The doctor left and the nurse told me that there would be some cramping and that would be normal, to just take Motrin. She told me to get dressed and she’d see me in a minute. I smiled and said okay and proceeded to pass the hell out. I think the worry and anxiety, not to mention the fact that I was holding my stomach in( another reason not to go to a cute doctor) all caught up with me. It was all very dramatic…….. to me. I guess the nurse didn’t see me fall back against the table because when I came to, I was alone. I sat there for like, 10 minutes and tried to get myself together. I finally walked out and she handed me water and Motrin and said ” Have a great day!” Yeah, I’m sure it will be “great”, lady. I got away from the cute doctor and happy arse nurse, as soon as I could.
That night I walked into my room to get ready for bed. My husband was there reading. I said to him “I’m worried about these cramps.” He said, not looking up from his book, ” It’s fine. The doctor said it was all normal.” I thought that over then said, “What if my body is rejecting the IUD?” He replied, still not looking up from his book, ” It’s not. I don’t think that’s possible. Come to bed.” I considered that, but then asked, ” What if it punctured my uterus?” He said, still not looking up from his ding, dang book, ” Do you really need your uterus? Aren’t we done having kids?” I just looked at him with exasperation, ” Come on, I’m serious!” He chuckled a bit and kept reading. I finished getting ready and crawled into bed, laid there and sighed. He turned to me and finally put his book down. “Okay, what are you worried about?” I looked at him, took a deep breath and decided to just go for it. ” Well, I’m worried that I’ll wake up in a pool of blood and you will have to rush me to the emergency room and we won’t have anyone to watch the kids and I’ll have to have an emergency hysterectomy but I have never had surgery before and when they give me the anesthesia I will be allergic to it and then I’ll die.” He just stared at me for a few seconds, leaned over, kissed my forehead and said ” Oh, dummy, that’s not going to happen. I love you. Go to sleep.” I did go to sleep eventually and he was right, there were no emergency room visits and I didn’t die (I’m still worried that I might be allergic to anesthesia). I have now moved on to worrying about something else……… flesh-eating bacteria.