That all familiar pit in my stomach due to anxiety has reared its ugly head this weekend. We have an appointment with the pediatrician today so it’s hardly a mystery as to why.
It’s mainly just for a review and should hopefully be Copperheads last visit, well, at least for herself. It only feels like yesterday when we took the girls for their first check up and were told they’d be six monthly until they turned two. Oh, how innocent we were!
I’m not worried. At least consciously I don’t think I am. I’m actually going to bake some cookies soon to take as a thank you/Christmas gift for everyone. I think sometimes my body reacts because my mind can’t handle it. Or maybe it’s my way of coping but the stress, pain, anxiety – whatever you want to call it – has to make itself known somehow.
I think if I let myself think about it too much, I’ll get sad. I’ll get angry and then I’ll get guilty for feeling that way. For the most part it’s easier to not even approach the rabbit hole for fear of spiralling and not being able to find my way back. It’s also about time. I don’t have it so why bother when I can just keep my head down and be as busy as a bee.
Wallowing in self pity has never been my thing and I’m grateful for everything in my life. Truly grateful, I’m not just saying it. But while my lips and heart can shout that fact from the rooftops, my tummy is still doing all kinds of backflips.