I’m a total Type A personality, so I really shouldn’t feel so shocked that the symptoms I have been feeling lately were diagnosed as panic attacks, but I am. For the first time in my life I feel like I am spinning out of control over something I have so little control over.

I never would have guessed I was having panic attacks. It didn't even occur to me and since I've never experienced anything like that before, didn't even know what it would feel like. I honestly thought that feeling faint, dizzy and shaky and like my heart is about to rip out of my chest while a lead weight crushed my lungs was my body’s way of telling me to eat eat eat, because it sort of does feel like intense hunger after a four day fast. If it wasn’t that, I thought maybe my iron levels were a tad low or that my already low blood pressure had dipped even lower than my regular 95/55 range. I never would have guessed that I might be experiencing anxiety in levels high enough to impact my body physically - I’m just so used to the emotional impact of this pregnancy. I guess my brain has decided to escalate things enough to let me know that I am more afraid that I am letting myself believe. Maybe I'm not doing a very good job communicating how I'm feeling.

I’ve been trying hard to keep my emotions in check, partly for my own peace of mind, but mostly for this darling little baby I’m carrying. It probably doesn’t help that the insane levels of hormones coursing through my body right now are probably the main culprit in my inability to settle my raging thoughts and feelings. It’s mind boggling to think that the amount of estrogen a pregnant woman’s body creates in one single a day is equivalent to that generated by a non-pregnant woman’s ovaries in three years. I can’t put all the blame on the hormones though. This pregnancy is making me face a lot of emotional baggage still lingering from Ava’s delivery and passing. Truth be told though, it’s so all-encompassing and intense and it’s hard to think about it without feeling the waves of panic taking over. I feel stuck between a rock and hard place. If I think about it, I'm fucked, and if I don't think about it, I'm fucked.

To cope, I read. But I have such a short attention span these days that I can’t even make it though an entire book. I have 19 items checked out of the library, and I barely make it past a few pages in a book before I catch my brain wandering and pondering the life in my stomach and hoping beyond all hope he survives.

I also cope by eating giant helpings of Rice Krispie squares while super-glueing my ass to the sofa so I can mindlessly entertain my brain while watching Big Brother All Stars and Rock Star Supernova because the pop tarts on Canadian Idol bore the crap out me.

At least thinking about how much I hate pop music distracts me long enough to forget that my placenta is covering my cervix and my perinatologist recommended a hot and heavy routine of no-sex because even though my placenta will probably migrate northwards and there is no need for concern right now, I *could* experience bleeding from it’s current position and I think if I did, I might just become delusional enough to appreciate what the big deal is with American and Canadian Idol.

And that makes me panic even more.

Labels: Pregnancy