The What-Ifs

I’m really not a fan of people who seem to constantly be writing negative things about their lives. I get that bad things happen but, I believe that how you react to a situation tells a lot about your character. To me, complaining is just about the least constructive thing you can do. So, having already written two pity-party posts about our family’s illness over the past few weeks—I debated whether or not I should even write this post. Buttttt, when I started a blog, I promised myself I would share all the ups and downs of being a mommy: the good, the bad, and the scary. And last night was a very worrisome night in our household… and not just because the Patriots lost—which sent my Patriots-obsessed husband into a severe off-season depression.

Before I begin, I should probably give you a little back story. I’ve been getting migraines on and off for years. When I got pregnant, I would literally get a gut-wrenching migraine every Monday like clockwork. I figured it was a combination of working, crazy pregnancy hormones, and the all too common lack of sleep. As soon as I delivered, they went away for awhile, but have just recently started returning with a vengeance—and more frequently too, sometimes bi-weekly. I had one last week that was so bad; I woke up in tears at 3 A.M.

Yesterday, I started to get a migraine around 7 P.M. but I tried to ignore it—hoping it would disappear. We had just returned from watching the Patriots game and I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed (yes, at 7 P.M.!). Now, Lacey’s at that awkward stage that she is able to sit up well but she loves to lunge for everything—and often tips over in the process. So to be on the safe side, we leave her rock ‘n play (which she outgrew for sleeping) in the bathroom so she’ll have a safe place while I get ready whenever Ross isn’t around. Well, apparently she has outgrown this stage as well—because within seconds she had managed to turn herself upside down and was trying to climb (or more like it: fall) out of it. I rushed to her and ending up tripping over our bath mat as I lunged to save her from hitting the ground. I started to fall sideways and knew I was heading right for the ledge of the bathtub—with no way of stopping. I wrapped my arms tightly around Lacey to try and keep her from taking the brunt of the fall and pummeled into the ledge—letting out a scream on the way down to alert my husband to come running.

I swear we seemed to fall in slow motion. I didn’t take my eyes off Lacey the entire time—wanting to keep her as safe as possible. We hit the ledge and she immediately started to cry. I knew I was hurting pretty bad so I worried that she had been injured as well. My husband came bursting through the door all of .5 seconds later and Lacey had already stopped crying. We immediately checked her over and over again and she seemed perfectly fine—aside from the initial shock. We had one other scare like this a few months ago—when Lacey fell off the bed—so we knew what signs to look out for in case of a concussion. I think I probably checked on her every 15 minutes last night, but thank god, she seems to have come out unscathed.

I, on the other hand, was a mess. My arm started to bruise within seconds and I’m still worried I may have slightly fractured my wrist. I honestly don’t know how Lacey didn’t end up with so much as a bruise. The stress of the situation caused my migraine to intensify and within an hour, I was shivering and seeing spots. Ross took Lacey and I jumped in a hot shower to try and relax. As I was getting out, I briefly blacked out, sat down on the same darn bath ledge we had fallen upon earlier, and started throwing up.

Like most moms, I couldn’t even take the time to worry about myself. The entire time I was worried about Lacey and just wanted to check to make sure she was still okay. I wanted to kiss and cuddle my baby girl after such a scare. It was all I could do to stop myself from thinking about the what-ifs. What if I couldn’t have cushioned her blow? What if she had hit her head on the shower faucet? What if this had happened an hour later while Ross was at work? I just kept thinking about how lucky we were and how much worse the situation could have been.

I called my mom and immediately started to cry as I retold the story and explained my fear of the “what ifs.” Like any good (great!) mom, she calmed me down and reminded me that you can’t worry about what could have been. All I can do is thank the Lord for keeping my baby safe and learn from my mistakes (like never, ever leave anything on the floor... & maybe try to be less clumsy).

As mommies, there are millions of what-ifs that we could worry about each day. I’d love to say it’s something that I’ll outgrow as I continue to grow and learn as a parent—but I have a feeling that’s just not how parenthood works. The scary truth of the matter is that your life as a parent is constantly changing and evolving. Fifteen years from now, I won’t be worrying about tripping while holding my baby—but I’m sure as hell going to be worried about whether or not I’m qualified to teach her to drive (I’m not. Ross will be taking the reins on that one). And 27 years from now, I’ll probably be worrying about my ability to give my own daughter the right advice when she calls crying about some mistake she made with her baby girl (hopefully I’ve inherited my own mom’s ability to always know the right thing to say).

I guess, like my mama said, we just have to remember to be thankful when things turn out right and pray when they don’t—and just enjoy the journey along the way. Thank you mom for teaching us the importance of positive thinking—and for always being there to remind us when we have a momentary lapse of judgment.

Do you suffer from what-if syndrome? Have you had to learn any mommy lessons the hard way? Leave a comment and let me know I'm not alone. ;)

See you real soon,
Lacey’s mama

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