Me--an optimist?

I have officially crossed over to the other side.

Buh-bye, paranoia. Well...buh-bye, at least, to the most extreme kind of paranoia. A couple of days ago, I had to pull my car over on my way to work because of extreme dizziness and shortness of breath. I eventually made it to work, but after I got there I realized I wasn’t going to be able to function unless I laid down. A co-worker wheeled me down to Occupational Health (remember, I work in a hospital), but rather than just let me lie down, the bastards there sold me out and made me see my OB across the street.

Just as I suspected, all my vitals were fine; outwardly, nothing was wrong. My OB told me she suspected I was just experiencing positional shortness of breath. But because she, like the nurses in Occ Health, wanted to cover her ass, she told me that in the Worst Case Scenario, I had a blood clot in my lungs, and only a CAT scan would be able to tell for sure.

Would you believe that I declined?

I truly believe in my gut that I am just experiencing normal pregnancy symptoms. But I must say that I now understand why some people say the last month can suck. I am torn between my need to get work and life all tidily sewn up before my (hopefully) impending delivery, and my need to just lie on my butt and do nothing.

Why Ann (you might say), why don’t you just do nothing? You deserve it!

Well, see, it’s not that simple. I’m supposed to be working right up until I deliver unless I get a doctor’s note. And even if I were to procure one of those, it would mean my 12 weeks would start way early, which messes up a lot of plans. So for now, I’m still working 40 hours a week.

Plus, our favorite pastor at church – the one who was our greatest supporter when Zach died – is leaving for another church. She’s in charge of youth group, and since M and I regularly help out, we’re the most obvious choice to pick up the slack. Except, of course, for the fact that we’re having a baby. So we’re trying to make lots of preparations now so we can relax for a month after the baby comes. And we’re trying to organize the kids to make a goodbye collage for the pastor.

Whew. No wonder I burst into tears last night after driving 20 minutes through heavy construction to see the optometrist, getting my shoe caught on the door and ruining it, spending 15 minutes filling out stupid forms, then finding out my insurance doesn’t cover an exam until October 1. Um.

And yet.

As I drove home from the optometrist, muttering angrily to myself, I saw a F.lig.ht for L.ife helicopter cruising over me. And I thought about the hospital to which it was likely carrying a critically ill patient—the same hospital where I delivered Zach. And I considered how all my aches and pains and frustrations and exhaustion were absolutely nothing compared to the emotional devastation I experience 10 months ago.

And I felt blessed.

P.S. Thank you all for sending along your e-mails. I have had room for all on my list! I'll probably be going invite-only in about a week; watch for updates. (And e-mail me if I totally screw this up!)