I Use to Worry ….

I entered this world 46+ years ago with the strongest "worry gene" a person could possibly have in their DNA make-up.  In fact for so long the "worry gene" ruled my life.  I would be a billionaire today had I found a way to capitalize financially on my professional ability to worry.

I have serious worry lines on my forehead to prove it!

Recently I've been hit with some erratic heart palpitations.  I'm sure it's my heart finally catching up to the years and years of worry.  It's a weird feeling to feel like your heart is about to climb out of your mouth.  I can feel it inching it's way up my throat.  I was fortunate to have my doctor hear it loud and clear upon examination - after my EKG didn't show much.  I actually breathed a sigh of relief that he heard it because the last thing I wanted to have him think that I was this psycho/hypochondriac (see what I mean about this worrying thing!)  A month later I agreed to wear a holter heart monitor for 24 hours and it did show that I do have many heart palpitations and every time I clicked the button to register that I felt one - I was indeed having one.  They are typically benign - PVCs are what they are referred to.  The next step is to see a cardiologist as an extra precaution.  I can't get myself to make that appointment - nothing good ever comes from seeing a cardiologist.  Maybe I'm tainted because we were told that Donovan's murmur at age 3 months was most likely innocent and I allowed myself to (get this) to not worry about the appointment only to find out that he has pulmonary valvular stenosis and then throw on top of that Noonan Syndrome.  I can tell you that was probably the worst day of my life - getting that blind-sided diagnosis from a cardiology visit that was just a precaution.  So you can probably see why I'm hesitant to go.  I'm of the mind that ignorance is bliss when it comes to my own health.

I hit the pinnacle of worry 2+ years ago when Donovan decided that eating was overrated.  Actually he stopped eating because eating made him feel ill.  I'll never know how ill but I can imagine he felt pretty crummy to give up cookies and snack foods.  Milk was his best friend - the only thing he consumed that apparently didn't make him feel awful.  Interesting enough, a child cannot live on milk alone.  So when your child tanks and stops eating and you have no idea why or how to fix it and you start resorting to threats and force feeding out of worry and utter frustration - you've hit the rock bottom of worry!

I have a phenomenal husband that heeded the warning signs and got me some help.  Nothing is more embarrassing then sitting in your doctor's office and sobbing.  Sobbing because your world is collapsing all around you.  Fortunately, he has dealt with similar issues in his own family with a special needs child and a wife that fluctuated from highs and lows of dealing with the life a mom of a "special" child.  All it took was this 1/2 of a blue pill and I had my life back.  I sit here today wondering why I never was offered this blue pill to make me normal before that day.  

One of my big worries was that Donovan would not be a happy normal child.  I feared and worried that he would be mercilessly teased because he's small, or because he wears glasses, or because his eye is a bit droopy, or that his ears are tilted back a little. I worried that his stuttering will draw kids to laugh at him.  I worried that he wouldn't be able to stand up for himself that he would be shy and reserved and continue to latch onto me as his life preserver.

Last night we went to a school related function.  Donovan has been going to camp with Norah at Lake Ridge for the last 4 weeks.  To see half a dozen kids run up to him and hug him - warmed the core of my heart.  To see how all the kids allowed him to be the leader and they followed him around and did whatever he wanted to do - and the kids were of all sorts of ages - 5-10 years old.  I spoke with the President of the school, who by the way knows all the kids at the school and makes it a point to know their families - and she told me that he's been the ring-leader most of summer camp.  He's managed to capture the older and younger kids attention and they love him like a best buddy.

When you have a child that isn't "perfect by genetic standards" - you worry as a mom about all sorts of things.  You mourn what isn't "perfect by genetic standards" but you become lucky enough to embrace the best part of life - to see life in a different pair of eyes.  To appreciate the small things, to learn to not sweat the small things.  You become a more loving, kinder and more understanding human being.

I use to worry … a lot!  Okay, who am I fooling … I still worry a lot!  But in a much calmer way!  And I'm guessing my heart flutters inside because it's happy!  Or at least that's the way I'm going to accept this PVC thing and hope that I'm not being stupid by invoking the "ignorant is bliss" for at least a little while longer!!