Friday, October 12, 2007

Miss Thing

Ladies & gentlemen, here she is! Miss Thing is 11 years old and already knows what she wants to be when she retires. (She thinks she's already grown. Somebody help.)

She barreled her way into our lives during our stay in Lake Stevens. She was beautiful...absolutely stunning. Well, I thought so. I had had a couple friends who expressed concerns over her appearance at birth. I was able to look past this stork-bitten, cone-head, double-chinned creature and saw our beautiful little girl. She was just so sweet.

Just two weeks into her life I suffered a sever panic attack after dosing myself with Percocet. We were on our way to church early one Sunday morning. I couldn't wait to get there to show-off this stunning creature. Then all of a sudden it hit me like being t-boned in the middle of an intersection. I suddenly went into a dream state where I felt like I was fighting to wake-up. But I couldn't because I was already completely conscious. I was so scared I screamed out loud and scared Glen half to death. He turned the car around and took me home.

I tried walking it off. I tried napping. I paced. I rocked. Nothing could shake the horrible dream state. I was having a full-blown, 24 hour panic attack and I couldn't do a thing about it. I couldn't breath. I couldn't close my eyes without being afraid of the dark. Yet Glen had to cover all the windows of our bedroom to block out the sunlight. I was completely out of control. Now what?

After 72 hours and several failed medications Glen drove me in to see the doctor. I remember it being a beautiful, sunny day. I had to have a blanket over my head while riding in the car. The sun was too bright. Cars were moving too quickly around me. There was too much noise. I was paralyzed with irrational fear.

Dr. Karen Hart was an internist for the Everett Clinic at the time. I'll never forget her.....ever. After explaining what had been going on she looked at me and said, "We need to calm you down." I was ticked. I wanted to go to sleep, period. I surely wasn't ready to "calm down"! As it turned out, the lovely and brilliant Dr. Hart knew exactly what to do. All I remember is waking up the next morning crying with joy because I'd actually slept through the night.

I digress...sort of. I told you about my conscious nightmare because Miss Thing was the only thing I could focus on during my dark hour. Only while nursing her did I feel a moment of wakefulness and being back to normal. I dreaded putting MT back into her crib because I knew I'd miss her terribly and go back into a panic state. What a nightmare. I'm not kidding. I'm getting chicken skin writing about it.

What follows is my own diagnosis of what happened.

I believe I had been so anxious to finally touch and see our little girl that my system went into excitement overdrive. I couldn't shut it down. I couldn't down shift. I couldn't chill. The excitement just kept coming. It felt like
adrenalin was being produced inside of my gut 24/7. For example, when I tried to lay down it felt like I was in an elevator that was descending much too quickly. My stomach would go into my chest like I was falling. Oh man....

After Dr. Hart (and most especially, the Lord) got my body under control I was able to look back on that crazy time and ask myself a few questions. Why would anyone want to go through pregnancy & birth? And why would anyone want to do it more than once? Was I
nuts? How can anyone want to live through such horror, fear & shear panic? What could be so important to endure one of the scariest times in my life? Why?

Take one look at the picture above. That's my
girl. And yes. I would suffer again and again and again and again. Every horrible, scary moment was worth the 11 years we've had her. And yes. I'm still excited.


Shannon said...

I so remember those awful days, Sonya. It was scary for the rest of us, too, because there wasn't a single thing we could do except pray.

She is SO beautiful! And she always has been. I was there when she was born, and I don't remember her being anything but lovely.

Great hat, too. :)

fig said...

Beautiful! And, no, there's nothing like it. Your attack sounds much more scary than my "excited shaking spasms" after each of my daughters was born. Each time was just so profound, I shook with the joy of it. I also wanted to talk anyone's ear off who would listen. Too much excitement. (Yeah, and great hat--makes a glow about the girl, which I'm sure she just has anyway.)