acidicice

Panic at 22 weeks

So I had a complete freaking meltdown yesterday. Melt.Down. I won’t go into the graphic details on here blog…as well…there might be boys that read this and even some squeamish girls…but I thought I had reason to worry about Babyice. Strange things happen to your body when you are pregnant and some things that didn’t happen before, even with Jamie were happening. Also, Babyice had been quieter than usual. His movements were less frequent and weaker. So I panicked.

 

Thanks to all the lovely hormones coursing through my veins I can no longer ‘keep it together’ when I am scared or worried. I turn into a frazzled mess. I cry. I bawl, actually. Not pretty. Although I know without any doubt that Leebeesa would have let me wet her shoulder, I didn’t want to talk about it. I frowned on Twitter and got poor Angel worried about me too.

 

ExMi popped up on gchat and having unlimited characters and her not being able to hear or see me sobbing allowed me to tell her what was wrong. She assured me that everything was OK…and calmed me down to the extent that I was able to call my gynae’s office from the toilet (to which I had retreated to bawl in private). They also assured me that everything I was going through was completely normal and that I need not worry about anything.

Thank you ExMi, Leebeesa, Rubyletters and Angel for your concern and support. I love you guys.

Then I just felt like a right tit for turning into a frantic mess over something completely normal. I’m so terrified that something will go wrong again. Petrified. Even though everything has been perfect up till now I cannot take for granted that everything will be fine. I made that mistake once. I was ignorant (oh what bliss!) and naive before. Having had the experience we have had has made me super paranoid and on high alert.

 

Babyice was kind enough to kick me lots yesterday (after abovementioned fanny wobble) which really made me feel a lot better. Thank God. He may kick me on my bladder if he wants. As long as he lets me know he is okay. I give him permission.

 

So. Here I meet the mark in my pregnancy where I step over into uncharted territory. I’ve never been more than 22 weeks pregnant. In less than a month it will be a year since I was last 22 weeks pregnant. It seems like such a long time ago…but it isn’t really. She would have been 7 months old already.

 

….and I can’t write any more than that…because I’m already a puddle again.

 

Angel, I’d like to get off the hormonal rollercoaster ride now and go on the hormonal ferris wheel instead.

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