And so we are well.

I ended up in the hospital, but only for 24 hours, and then a quick recovery. I was a wreck. Physically, emotionally, mentally, a wreck. I don't know what came first -- the mental or the physical, or what caused what. Sort of the chicken/egg thing, but I found myself sick, barfing, worrying and panicking. I wondered if the entire thing was just anxiety and if I was going crazy (but my doctor assured me no, because of the definite inflammation that showed up on the CT scan, I wasn't just crazy). But, I was a mess. I found myself worrying worrying worrying. About everything. Well, not everything. . . mostly Sam. Panicking. Googling. Worrying. I don't know why. Nothing changed. Nothing happened to send me into panic. I just went there. . . Sammie B is moving along . . . at her own pace. No doctor has hit the "panic" button yet, including the neurologist, the geneticist, the pediatrician, and now (adding to our list) the orthopedist (who, logically, sees TONS of low-tone kids). Yet, I WAS PANICKING. Having anxiety attacks the second my eyes opened in the morning, and all throughout the day. Anxiety is something I've struggled with throughout life, and I've taken medication for it in the past (something I don't like admitting) but I generally take it for awhile and then convince myself I'm fine and I don't need it and stop taking it. Then life throws something my way, and I spiral. Like this time. Spiraled into panic and anxiety and worry. Admittedly, life has never handed me worry as intense as that that comes with motherhood. So, I've found myself worrying that maybe I wasn't cut out for this. Because sometimes, the worry is just so intense, it HAS consumed me. And in the moments I realize it's consuming me, keeping me from ENJOYING, I hate myself. Because Sammie B . . . she deserves a mommy that doesn't let "can'ts" and "not yets" destroy her. A mommy that is fully present.

I watch B, and I am amazed at his ability to just keep going. To not let worry consume him. He worries, but he also just enjoys life. Day by day. I envy him. I admire him.

Three weeks after starting back on the medication, I spent the entire day yesterday with Sam. And, I found myself noticing each little indicator of progress. Three weeks ago, all I could see was what she WASN'T doing. Perspective change? Maybe. Or perhaps I really do need this medication. Either way, I'm better, both mentally AND physically. Better.

I've also gotten to "share" Sammie B with both of her grandmas in the last week (Nana came out to help when I was super sick; and my mom is here now) and I LOVE watching her with each of them. She's so much more engaged each and every visit ... this too is helpful to me as I try to keep things in perspective. They adore her, and she adores them, so its really just fun to see and be part of.

The can'ts won't all always be can'ts, and for some reason (because my body has healed, because I'm rested, because we've had family here, because I'm taking my medication, who knows . . . . ) I'm just in a better place. A place where even though those "can'ts" still scare me, I can still enjoy the right now. And appreciate the moments where "can'ts" slowly slowly start looking like "somedays" . . .

Tada.