Crazy Mama

Before we found out we were expecting Baby G, I was well-known for being a worrier. It got so bad at one point that my body freaked out from the stress and my heart rate was affected enough that I had to visit urgent care and get hooked up to a heart monitor. When I found out about Baby G, something miraculous happened, and my typical worrying ways fell by the wayside. I became more relaxed and didn't obsessively worry about bad things happening during the pregnancy. It was a strange but amazing feeling being able to enjoy the pregnancy without being paralyzed by fear.

Once Miss G arrived, I figured that the worry would reappear. After all, here was a human being I was suddenly responsible for more than watching the foods I ate. I certainly wasn't worry free, but I enjoyed this new little person more than worried about her.

That is, until this past Wednesday night. As Miss G and I were enjoying each other's company on the couch while Dave was at a VBS meeting, I noticed there was an extra bump in Miss G's nostril that I hadn't remembered seeing before. I studied that bump for a long time; I couldn't stop looking. I noticed that it partially blocked her airway, and I worried that she wouldn't be able to breathe sufficiently. Suddenly, I had visions of some kind of laser surgery where doctors would have to go in and remove it. I fought the urge to call Dave at his meeting just to tell him what I discovered. I also fought the urge to cry because my daughter's nose wasn't perfect. Yeah, I went a little crazy.

After praying that God would remove it, I tried really hard to forget about the bump, but the next day I found myself studying it again. This time, it looked a little different--more like snot than cartilage. I attempted to remove it with the bulb syringe, but it wouldn't budge. Up and down my emotions went. First I was excited that it was a temporary blockage, then I was upset that it was indeed a growth when I couldn't remove it. Dave told me not to worry and took the baby upstairs to change her while I continued to fret.

A few minutes later, Dave called to me from the baby's room. Apparently, I hadn't been forceful enough with the bulb syringe. Dave's expert way of using it ended with our daughter's booger--not growth--being removed from her nostril.

I guess that means I have to work a little more on not worrying.