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Sorry for the quiet.

I have really been trying to work on my anxiety. Less obsession, more faith.
I had a good 6 day run.

In fact, Wednesday was almost euphoric. As you know, I live in the Midwest. As you may have heard, it's been raining. A LOT. Like, I'm trying to figure out if I could get away with my 3 cats and 1 dog counting as 2 pair when we start gathering the animals 2 by 2. What I'm saying is that it's been gloomy.

Wednesday, however, the sun came out to say hello. I got off work at 6 and was driving home and the sun on my face felt fantastic. The baby started kicking and jiggling around and it was a really a time of pure pleasure. When I got home, my dog greeted me at the door. We spent a few minutes in the yard. His little butt wiggling in excitement made me giggle. Wow. Joy. Where'd that come from?

Of course, the sun went down and the doubts came in. I thought "Hmm, I'll probably pay for this. The other shoe will drop any time now." Yes, that's me- pure optimism.

Wednesday I slept well. I even propped myself on some pillows and slept on my back for about 2 hours. It felt good, even though I knew I might regret it. Too much time on my back usually ends with me waking up in pain.

Thursday morning I felt pretty good. The day was going well enough until I went to pee. I wiped. hmm.. that looks sort of... pink. Shit. Wipe again... no.. that's actually... RED.. But wait.. that seems to be oddly placed on the toilet paper. Let me investigate further. (As a side note, there was someone else in the bathroom with me. I wonder if they wondered why I kept going back for more toilet paper.) I determined that it was PROBABLY actually my skin bleeding. But I couldn't be sure. Of course, I'm using that sandpaper-like industrial toilet paper at work so if it is my skin, all this "investigating" isn't helping.

I went back to my desk and tried to tell myself to calm down. It's just my skin. It's just my skin. The baby is fine. Wow, I really wish the baby would decide to kick about now. My hands started to shake. I tried to take some deep breaths. I checked the time. It was about 3 1/2 hours into my day. If I took a half a vacation day I could leave shortly. I could go home and investigate and most importantly- get to my Doppler. I arranged for a half vacation day and left shortly thereafter.

I got home and very nearly dove for the Doppler. The baby was fine. Heart pulsing away. I got a mirror. Hmm.. I see... nothing. To the bathroom. I pee.. WOW that burns. It seems I have a small cut or tear on my lady bits. PSA: Don't pee on an open wound. It burns.

I decide that I'm still insane and that I'm going to use my day to catch up on some sleep. I thought that if this was the other shoe dropping, it wasn't so bad. I spent the rest of the day in bed.

I woke up later and something stunk. It's a long story, but I think one of the cats managed to drag a not-so-clean butt across my bed and I was dying. The husband seemed blissfully unaware, but I was having no part of it. So I spent most of the evening washing everything in the bedroom. (Took me a while to figure out what the source was.) There was lots of bending, reaching, pulling etc. But I finally cured it.

At around midnight, the back pain started. I don't know if it was the back sleeping, the laying around, or the housework- probably some combo. It was the worst back ache I've ever had. It was a radiating pain that made me feel crampy as well.

I tried to go to bed. That made it worse. After laying in pain for an hour, I had almost convinced myself I was in labor. Yes, it hurt that bad. The only thing that was comforting me is that the pain was constant, not cycling, and that I wasn't feeling anything distinctly in my uterus.

I would occasionally doze off and dream about being in labor, then wake up in pain again. This was surely the other shoe dropping for real.

I woke up before the alarm and got the Doppler. Baby still sounded fine. I felt a little better, but my back still hurt. I talked myself out of the labor theory and went to work.

As the day went on, my back pain finally eased. It left behind a very crampy, bloated feeling. Much like my period was going to start. Now, I've had several rounds of that with this pregnancy, so I told myself about a hundred times that it wasn't uncommon. After downing 4 or 5 cups of water, I finally started to feel better. By the end of the day, I felt almost normal. The baby started kicking a bit, even having a cute moment where my belly growled in hunger and it seemed the baby answered with a little tap.

I worked the whole day. Came home and checked the baby again- all is well. I am glad to be seeing the doctor on Monday, but I made it through 24 hours of uber-anxiety and didn't lose it. I'll call it success.

However, I often feel like worry is a sin. If I'm worried about it, then I'm not putting it in His hands. I discussed it with some friends today and they were encouraging, but I still feel guilty about it.

Tonight my husband came in with the mail and I received the sweetest card from a friend. It was essentially a reminder that even when I feel like I'm losing it, to remember that He has a tight grip on it. I bawled and bawled and bawled. I needed that today.

Thank God for great friends. And healthy babies.

--Trish