Finding the time to write has been much more difficult than anticipated. On any given day I have several “post ideas” swirling around in my head, yet I find myself unable to commit the time and energy needed to actually compose a proper post.
Recently, I was in my kitchen, creating a to do list for things to tackle before our upcoming family vacation when it dawned on me: If I can’t make time for the things that I like, then why am I wasting my time on the things that I don’t?
My number one time waster to date? Worrying.
Worrying is defined as the act of giving way to anxiety or unease, and letting ones mind dwell on difficulty, or potential problems, whether actual or perceived. In plain english, it’s when you waste your precious time agonizing over things that may or may not happen.
Worrying is an activity that I despise, yet seem to always make time for. It’s also something that has peppered my days, in varying amounts, since our last appointment on July 5th. (Let’s be real, worrying has preoccupied my time for the last 31 years, because as it turns out there is always something to worry about.)
I realized after our last appointment that good news or not, I could still unfortunately fall down the rabbit hole and get lost in a world of “what ifs,” anxiety, and fear. Atticus’ heart appointment went really well. So well that we don’t have to see the Cardiologist again until December, which gives us a six month gap between heart appointments, triple the amount of time that what we were given between his first and second echoes (!!) Yet, a few weeks ago, despite my best attempts to remain positive, an unshakable feeling of worry engulfed me. It’s as if someone literally threw a bucket of water in my face and suddenly, inexplicably, I was saturated with anxiety.
At the behest of my mom, and Gibby, I paid my family doctor a visit to discuss what was going on. Together we got to the root of the issue.
I was dealing (or otherwise not dealing) with a huge amount of stress, much of it self-induced. One of the biggest challenges I am faced with by having a heart baby is to repeatedly “hurry up and wait.” Either I am literally walking out the door from his most recent appointment, or I am waiting for the next one to arrive. Me, being a bit of a control freak, has a very difficult time accepting this. Gibby is not a control freak at all, even welcomes spontaneity, and as such he refuses to spend any time thinking about the “what ifs” whereas I, the over thinker, become consumed with them in my attempts to plan for, and control for, every possible outcome.
My family doctor was very understanding yet very firm when he dispensed his advice to me: stop worrying. He said that if the doctors weren’t worrying, than neither should I, as it wasn’t getting me anywhere (except into the depths of google where nobody wants to be.) It was also stealing my time, something that no one seems to have enough of these days.
So that being said, I am looking forward to blogging again, and also shifting my focus to some of the more enjoyable ways I spend my days with Atticus. This means a slight navigation away from writing about the medical stuff, as there is so much more to him than his little heart. (Disclaimer – if you want to talk to me about his heart I could literally talk your ear off. I started the blog for a reason and if it creates discourse about this kind of thing than I have done my job.)
Also, Atticus’ heart condition at 18 weeks of age was still ranked mild, hence the 6 month gap, which means I will have no Cardiology updates until December. Until then, I am looking forward to enjoying my days with the baby, and making a little time for myself again (reading, writing, and my dreaded return to the gym are all on the agenda.)
“Worrying does not empty tomorrow of it’s sorrow, but only robs today of it’s strength.”