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We’ve been battling illness in our house…poor Zoey was sick with the yuck for a couple of days and now it’s developed into her first full blown ear infection.  Awesome.

I knew something was wrong on Sunday night when she would wake up screaming.  Not crying.  Screaming.  In pain.  It was awful and I was terrified.  No amount of cuddling, nursing, rocking, singing, holding or soothing would help.  This is not normal for my little girl.

What if she has an intestinal blockage?  What if it’s pneumonia?  What if it’s cancer?  What if?  What if? Immediately my mind went to The Fear. 

What if she dies?

Yup.  I know it’s an ear infection and I know no one dies from an ear infection but at 3 am on Monday morning, I didn’t know that it was an ear infection.  I was ten seconds from packed her up and taking her to the ER.  I was deep in the throes of The Fear.  I took a deep breath, she settled down and fell asleep on my chest in the rocker. 

I sat there and watched her breathe until my alarm went off at 6am.

That’s the lost baby mama fear people.

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It has occurred to me on more than one occasion lately that I should be doing something.  I didn’t make it to the third trimester last time with the boys.  Straight from second trimester to delivery, do not pass “Go” and you certainly do not get to leave the hospital with your babies.  Now, with Baby Girl, I’ve cruised right through the second trimester into the third.  Now what?  I’m lost.  I don’t have the books…I mean, I do but they are the nursery and I can’t bear to look at them but it does seem like I should be doing something to prepare.  Shouldn’t I?

I didn’t get to the part in the book about what to take to the hospital.  Is that even in the book?  When do I need to pack a bag?  I don’t think I have a bag.  What goes in the bag?  I’ve seriously become obsessed with The Bag.  I don’t have a diaper bag yet either and that seems important for the hospital.  And the boob things.  You know, the boob covers?  Where do I get those?  Do I need them for the hospital?  What are they for?  I have a sleep nursing bra that I’m immensely proud to say I purchased all on my own, thankyouverymuch but of course, it dawned on me in the middle of the night that I bought my normal size.  If I remember correctly (and it’s really fuzzy as I was beyond doped up when I came home without the boys) but don’t your boobs get really big?  I remember looking down and thinking, “I look like Pamela-fucking-Anderson, what the hell?” and promptly bursting into tears.  And what about jammies?  Do I take cute ones?  I didn’t have the option last time.  Are cute ones even an option?

I have a mother and I think to myself, “shouldn’t she be telling me these things?”  As you know, we’ve got an odd relationship that I have to say, has gotten markedly better since Baby Girl’s conception.  I will say that she forgets sometimes that I’ve been part of the way down this road.  Maybe she thinks I don’t need any more guidance because I recently said to her, “you know Mom, I’ve been pregnant before…”  In my defense, however, she was trying to tell me what it felt like to have the baby kick you.

I seriously feel like everyone else just knows this stuff and because I’m so freakn’ damaged, I can’t muddle my way through it to figure it out.

last night.  She didn’t kick me for a whole 45 minutes.  In my world, that is an eternity.  Longest 45 minutes of my life right there.  I realize how silly this sounds, I know but I was actually going over the conversation I would have to have with Hubby – that’s how convinced I was she wasn’t okay.  I drank water, I drank milk, I laid down flat, I sat “buddha-style,”  I paced, I even jumped (did not feel great on the boobs lemme tell ya).  My heart was pounding so hard, I could see it on my chest.  And I was home alone.  Obviously.  Had Hubby been home, I would have never acted like a loon (who are we kidding, yes I would have).  It was too late to take half a Clonopin because my usual whole dose was due in about an hour. 

So how did I talk myself down?  I dimmed the lights, sat “buddha-style” on the couch, took 5 deep breaths and put on my DVR’d episode of Grey’s Anatomy (yes, the one with the angry uterus).  Next thing I know….thump.  Thump.  Thump.

It’s been a while since I freaked out that badly.  I don’t know if it’s because I came out on this blog or because I saw a dead butterfly in the parking lot or because 20 minutes earlier or because Duke Fertility called to say they had a donor for us.  Of course, my polite response was “no room at the Inn!” and the nurse laughed and quickly remembered I was pregnant already.  I have it in my head that if I get to 28 weeks, I will be fine.  I will instantly turn back into that carefree woman I was 2 years and 7 months ago who thought my world would never come crashing down.  That’s not going to happen, is it?

An hour later, I crawled into bed and she was kicking me so hard I could see my belly move.  I cried for the first time in a really long time.