Sensory Processing and Panic

When people talk about sensory processing disorder (SPD), most of the time you hear about how children need input - spinning, swinging, carrying heavy loads. And often you hear about texture sensitivities - kids who won't walk on grass, who only wear clothes made of certain materials, who think the seams in socks are painful and who find the tags in their shirts unbearable.

You hear less about auditory processing, but just as the other senses can be disjointed and dysfunctional, so to can the ability to process things a person hears.

Our current working hypothesis is that this is part of Acorn's difficulties. Especially since he follows directions well when they're given in sign language (visually) as opposed to verbally. All of our private therapists (OT, speech, psychologist) believe this, and while the school is not so keen on the idea, they agree that there are times his hearing seems off, and that directions given in sign language or using PECS or a communication device are easier for him to follow.

We've known for a long while that something was off in his hearing (though repeated hearing tests have shown normal hearing). As a small baby, his reaction to many toys that made noise was complete and utter terror. As he's grown, that's improved, but things like lawn mowers and vacuums still bother him. There are times where things you say don't seem to make sense to him, even though the same words made sense the day before.

The most amusing - or maybe most embarrassing - outcome of this is actually fairly common in kids with SPD.. More often than not, if you ask him to put on a specific article of clothing, he takes off a different article of clothing. So when the occupational therapist asks him to put on his shoes, he sometimes tries to take off his pants. She says it's a daily occurrence there, and everyone expects it, so at least we feel less crazy when it happens at home.

All of this background is so that you understand why what I'm about to relay happened, and why it was so scary for us.

Acorn does best with a very consistent schedule, because it's easier for him to know what to expect. Explaining changes to the schedule is hard, because he doesn't always process what's being said.

We needed to make up some swimming lessons he missed due to illness,  and so we were going to swimming at a different time than usual, on a different day than usual.

We all told him that he and I were getting in the truck to go swimming. Instead of running for the truck, he waved "bye" to me. When prompted again, he came running, but still didn't really get it. I went and opened the truck door, and told him to come and get in, but he walked to the car, hoping to get in there instead.

I reminded him that we were taking the truck, and asked him to come over and climb into his car seat. And then I opened my door to put my bottle of tea into the cup holder.

When I turned around, he was no where in sight.

In fact, he was not in the street, not between the cars, not in front of the cars......he had vanished.

Instantly, I started to panic, though I knew he couldn't have gone far, and anyplace in the street would have still been in my line of sight (we have a corner lot, giving a lot of street to look for him in). Since he hadn't come past me, he had to be somewhere down the side of the house.

I started around the side of the house, since that wasn't in my direct line of sight, and as I walked farther from the cars, I could see him hanging out at the corner of the deck. He looked at me somewhat confused, wondering why I was calling for him.

Relieved, and also mad, I picked him up and carried him back to the truck, in hopes that we wouldn't be too late for swimming....and with me wondering again how many times this sort of thing is going to happen. He's only escaped the house once, but he's since learned to take the plastic door knob guard off the door, so it's likely only a matter of time before he escapes again. We already have rules that if we're playing outside and he runs into the street, we go in immediately. He's bolted in parking lots.

But so far, there's no real way to get it across to him that running off like this isn't a good idea.

This PICU stuff sucks

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain

--Frank Herbert, Dune

It has been a long time since I've truely feared anything. Several years back, the request I finally brought to Big Dark & Scary when I thought I was ready for her was, "I cannot continue to live in fear of so many things, please help me."  The interesting, and somewhat unexpected, result of that discussion, was that I became aware of what things are worth fearing, which has the side effect of putting me back in control of the fear.

The possibilities here with Leaf? The ways this could go so terribly wrong?

Yeah. Those count as being worth fearing.

But not worth drowning in the fear, which is where I was yesterday. Today is marginally better on that front, even after a 3 am phone call letting me know that they drug the attending physician out of his bed at home to come consult after things again got worse yet again.

I've always liked the Litany Against Fear - it may be the only part of Dune I liked, because I really wasn't fond of any of the Dune novels when I read them in high school, and that's saying a lot for me, given my voracious reading of everything, but particularly sci-fi and fantasy.

And in terms of being mindful and present....it's a good reminder that I can be afraid without losing myself in the fear. That in the end, the fear will pass by, and I'll still be standing here, no matter what happens.

A scary triggery day

The day before Acorn turned 5 months old, he went to surgery for his trach and g-tube:

Acorn post surgery

They told us it'd be quick - less than an hour, and that we'd have him off the ventilator by the end of the week. He reacted poorly to the medication they gave to sedate him, so he ended up being sedated longer as they weaned him...and then it took a year to get him off the vent.

Yesterday, the day Leaf turned 5 months old, she had surgery to put in her g-tube:

Leaf, post surgery

They told us it'd be an hour (longer than Acorn's surgery to do 2 things), and that they'd extubate her before sending her back up to the NICU.  They failed extubation twice, so they sent her back to the NICU on a ventilator. They gave her the same sedative they'd given Acorn, and it had put her out too much to make the second attempt at extubation a go. They were hopeful that they'd get her off the vent later that day.

It all sounded too familiar. It all looked too familiar.

The good news (as evidenced by the photo above) is that they *did* get her extubated just a couple hours after she went back upstairs, with nurses and doctors who knew her and knew what to expect from her, and just a few hours later was back to baseline.

Of course, I missed that part where things went better. I was with Acorn, off to see the ENT about a suspected infection in his trach incision, which turned out to be the internal stitches working their way out of his skin (which still carries a risk of infection because the blisters keep popping open), which also shouldn't happen.

Still, there are days that this stuff is just too damn hard.

Worst Mom Award

I've spent the last few days feeling like the worst mom ever.

Early last week, Acorn got hand foot and mouth disease from daycare. We've been paranoid about handwashing since he started there, but Leaf got it anyway.

Acorn's been cranky, and it seems like the rash is painful at times. He's had trouble sleeping. But other than that, no real issues.

Leaf, on the other hand, seems extra fussy....and won't eat orally (or at least, wouldn't until Saturday morning). Which is a problem, since we've only been working on it a couple of weeks and she was just starting to get the hang of it.

Now, HFM is extremely contagious - so contagious that doctors don't generally recommend keeping kids out of daycare when diagnosed, because they assume the other kids have already been exposed. But I still feel like it's my fault all around that my kids are sick.

I was ambivalent about daycare to begin with. I wanted a nanny, and then was unsuccessful at finding one, and my spouse was unhappy about the cost of a nanny. I was the mom who went back to work when Acorn was in the NICU because we needed insurance and we needed the money.....and I was the mom who wasn't willing to give up things like music lessons for my kids because there wasn't money (which is what happened when I was a kid). So it's my fault he needed care to begin with.

I also felt like there's something we missed in washing or sterilizing or something that resulted in transferring germs from Acorn to Leaf, since he generally stays in his stroller when we visit, and since we all scrub when we enter the NICU.

After Acorn's birth, I needed to go back to work. I needed the mental stability of having responsibilities other than the NICU - I needed that anchor in reality. I was depressed, and running away from my issues (namely, the NICU) seemed like a good idea.

This time around, things are eerily similar at the hospital, but dramatically different at home. Work isn't a helpful anchor, it's a distraction in the way of doing what is important. And that makes a heck of a lot of difference in the way it feels to leave Acorn in someone else's care, much less having to leave Leaf in someone's care when she leaves the NICU.

I'm sure both Acorn and Leaf will be feeling better in a few days - their rashes are already improving, and Acorn is going back to daycare this afternoon. Leaf and I had our best nursing session ever yesterday morning. 

But right now, it doesn't leave me feeling any better about heading back to work today.

And it's done

Acorn has no trach - almost 12 hours without now. Took it out, put gauze and a piece of tape over it, and basically that's it, just sitting around now to monitor, and to wait for the stoma to close a bit. He doesn't seem to notice, but he does notice the nurses and doctors and residents and med students.

My spouse has Acorn duty tonight and tomorrow - I'm going to work. Then I have my turn staying at the hospital tomorrow night and all day Thursday.

Can I just say it's a little unnerving to be sleeping alone? I mean, I used to live alone. But it's been more than a decade since I regularly slept without anyone else in the house. And the last 2 1/2 years, there's usually been someone awake all night here, which just makes it more odd to me.

I think I slept alone one night this past spring when Acorn was in the hospital, but I didn't make it home until like 2 am after a marathon of pediatrician, ER, and hospital admission, so it wasn't sleep so much as falling over in exhaustion. Before that....it was the car wreck my husband was in (car vs. pedestrian, and he was the pedestrian) a few weeks before Acorn got his trach. Before that....I think my husband went on a business trip about 5 years ago.

Meh. I should pump and sleep, because it's already been a long week. g'night all.

It's complicated....

23 weeks, 2 days. A few little easily controlled glitches, but other than that, Leaf seems to be doing just fine, kicking and squirming to hir heart's content here in my belly. Kicking hard enough that if you're lucky, and in just the right spot, you can feel those kicks from the oustide now.

You know, with Acorn, I think my husband only felt one or two kicks...

By 22 1/2 weeks, Acorn and I were already in trouble, though we didn't know it yet, since my blood pressure was barely controlled with meds (the same medication I'm on right now, with a normal blood pressure most of the time).

With Acorn, I was admitted to labor & delivery "for the duration" at 26 weeks, 2 days - and that duration ended up being less than a week.

It's a complicated feeling, being here in this sort of no-man's-land between when things went badly with Acorn and when he was born, in this completely different pregnancy with a completely different child, under the care of more doctors than I can count on one hand.....

It's terrifying, really. And a relief - and yet there's guilt about that feeling of relief too. And a lot of time spent wishing we could just do one single thing the easy way here- the way normal people do.

Living with Fear

I don't know about all special needs parents - I only know my own experiences, and those of the support groups I'm active in.


But I suspect most of us, particularly kids with medical issues that leave us dependent on technological gear and little pieces of plastic, live with a secret: we're terrified.

Oh sure, most days we go about our lives, living them just like everyone else (or as much like everyone else as it gets when you're hauling around a kid with wires and tubes attached to beeping boxes covered in lights). But burried deep in our hearts is fear.

Most of it is fear of what if:

What if the power goes out
What if we're in a car accident and no one who comes knows how to suction
What if we can't get our supplies
What if I lose my job and thus our insurance
What if my child stops breathing...or worse, what if they stop breathing and I can't get them started again.
What if this formula doesn't work for my child either
What if this procedure doesn't work. Or the next one. Or the next.
What if we've missed something.

Many of us live with the knowledge (which I've written about before) that children die. Children like ours, with the same diagnosis as ours, and the same equipment. And we're sometimes not sure why our child lives, while others so similar don't.

This week fear came home to roost for some of us. Someone we know, with a child with a trach, lives in Japan, though the mother and children are Canadian citizens. They lived between Tokyo and the damaged nuclear reactor. They can't get reliable power, don't have a suction pump capable of making the flight to North America, and can't get to anywhere else that's any safer.

And we're all living this experience vicariously - knowing that (hopefully) we've planned for every possible natural disaster known to us....and yet, clearly, it's not that simple, because this family can't stay in their home, can't afford to fly to Canada, and can't seem to get enough help to get out.

This week we're watching someone we know live some of our worst nightmares. It hits far far far too close to home for comfort.

As close as we are to decannulation, I can't help but think "what if it was us" - and I know a lot of other parents thinking the same things right now. I can only hope we're all lucky enough to never find out first hand.

there's nothing here to be sad about

Note that while the first trimester is supposed to be the point when you're exhausted, now that we're on to the 2nd, I seem to have finally caught the "OMG pregnant must sleep" bug, so I apologize if this is incoherent...I'm a nap short today with a sick kiddo.

*****

My father is coming to visit this week. He called to discuss arrangements, and to ask if Acorn would be afraid of him, like last time he was here.

Keeping in mind that "last time" was Acorn's birthday, during the summer, and that it was the 4th time Acorn had ever been around him (at birth, the summer he turned 1, my brother's wedding at 18 months, and then last summer)....and that we were at the height of Acorn's anxiety about everything, and that my dad is not the most cuddly or socially skilled person in the world, you can see why he'd be wary of this man showing up and wanting to play with him.

I told dad that it was hard to say - that the anxiety is a lot better, and that I had figured on finding some things they could do that were Acorn's favorite things, which would pre-dispose him to being more open.

My father was upset by this. More to the point, he was upset by "all this crap that Acorn has had to go through" because clearly, that's what makes him afraid of strange people.

Right. Because more typical kids without our medical history are never shy, wary of strangers, or afraid of doctors. Because normal toddlers remember people they haven't seen in 6 months (frankly, it wouldn't surprise me if Acorn does remember him, but has already made a judgement about him and filed it away).

I just wish that people would stop looking at what has been, and look at where we are. Clearly, Acorn does not feel that his life is a tragedy. He's happy, as healthy as any other toddler we know...granted, he has a couple extra pieces of hardware, but it's not like he lets them slow him down. Life is what it is, and focussing on the past doesn't gain us anything at this point - we've done what needed to be done, what seemed to be best at the time, and we've moved on. I just wish everyone else would too.

body image, healthy eating, and morning sickness

It's taken me days to write this. Days and tears and honesty that I wasn't sure I had. And a homeopathic remedy that's worked well for my mood swings...

...that, and the promise of a chocolate milkshake on the way home as a reward, if I get through the last of it today.

*****

Food and I have a long history of failed attempts at a functional relationship.

I have a history of eating in ways that weren't healthy in order to attempt to be thin. I have a history of vague attempts at dieting (and then gaining more weight back than I'd lost to begin with). I have a history of living in a household where food was controlled to the Nth degree (my best guess is that a trained evaluator would diagnose my dad as having Aspergers and sensory processing disorder; his food preferences are very narrow, and anyone who doesn't agree is just. plain. wrong.). I have a history of alternately not eating for days, or binging on everything in sight when I'm depressed.

Add in the very disfunctional way our society approaches body image for girls and women, and you've got quite a mess.

For me, any "diet" that requires counting sets off a very bad sort of loop - and it doesn't matter if that counting is calories, carbs, proteins, or points. It's a way of imposing control, and control and I, too, have a very disfunctional relationship, except under very specific circumstances (and even then, I still worry that the very existence of that exception to the rule, by its very nature, is disfunctional in some big ways).

It's only been the last few years that I've really come to terms with this history, and come to see that there are other ways of approaching body image and food - ways that celebrate food without putting down the body I have, ways that celebrate the body I have without making me miserable about the body that some folks think I ought to have. Ways of eating that focus on nutrition, on giving my body what it needs to be its best (whatever that best is). Ways of exercising that focus on moving because it feels good, not because it's some magic ticket to some idealized body.

The last few years are probably the most functional my relationship with food has ever been - and that's not to say there aren't days where this fragile bridge of friendship has broken down under the weight of all that history. I eat until I'm satisfied, but not past that point. We mostly eat at home, and we eat things made from real foods - things I can identify, things that aren't in cans or boxes. I eat more fruits and vegetables on a regular basis than I ate in a week as a kid; I try new things, I use spices (we had onion and garlic and cinnamon and salt and pepper when I was a kid). I cook with cream and butter when a recipe calls for it, without agonizing over the fat or calories - I find I tend to eat less when I eat things made this way, because my body is satisfied more quickly.

If I'm gonna have dessert, it's usually going to be something fabulous, because I deserve it - why waste good calories on bad food?

*****

Pregnancy has a funny way of interfering with all this progress.  I had issues when I was pregnant with Acorn - morning sickness really threw things off, and my relationship with food was very tentative then. I tried hard to stay in a zone of peace about it, but regularly failed. There were points where I couldn't finish a hamburger because it was too much food. And the list of foods I couldn't stand to eat because of food aversions was a mile long.

This pregnancy, the morning sickness has been far worse. There've been days where I know I didn't consume 1000 calories, and I know I didn't keep all of it down (and you see that number there? there's a number because that's how paranoid I've become). I've been told protein is the key to preventing pre-eclampsia, but how do you even begin to count protein grams when you're vomiting six times a day?

And then I got medication for the morning sickness, but I still don't feel like eating. I know it's not good - it's been very clear the last couple of weeks that the less I eat, the more anxiety I feel, but we're already at a point where I'm paranoid about eating the wrong things, and fearful that the meds will stop working, and the resulting waves of anxiety means there are times I just don't eat anything, because it's easier....which just makes the anxiety worse.

On top of that are the cravings. This time is not so bad as it was with Acorn (largely because the whole idea of food is right out much of the time right now). And the more rational part of me knows that following a craving is not a bad thing - my body is smart and it knows what it needs, especially if I'm otherwise eating well. But I'm rarely that rational right now, and I'm not eating that well to begin with. Part of me worries that the craving foods are displacing protein, or vegetables, or any number of more healthy things that my body and my baby need. Part of me just doesn't want to eat at all, because it's easier than possibly being sick, or arguing with myself about whether it's the "right" thing to eat. Part of me worries that I'm not eating enough - and clearly, when I'm not eating at all that's true, it's just hard to know what constitutes enough when you have no appetite and are likely to vomit if you eat too much, even with meds.

*****

I'd say that it's more important to me not to pass all this angst on to Acorn than to actually fix it....but really, that's a sign of the stress inherent in the current situation. Our needs are equally important.

Acorn has always been a kid with feeding issues. A combination of sensory issues, bad experiences, a trach, and a lack of experience has meant that oral feedings have been a challenge. We are only recently not feeding him via feeding tube, and most days, he still doesn't eat like most other kids his age. He eats more foods than my dad, which says a lot.

It's taken a ton of work to get to this point....but here we are, maintaining weight and growing without the tube, completely normal for his age in terms of weight and height.  It's been a struggle for me too - I hate peas, but he eats them happily; even though the smell of eggs right  now makes me nauseous, I've made him eggs in the last week.

There's a lot of work that goes into putting on a good face for him - into encouraging him to try everything (even things I can't stand, even when I'm not pregnant), into encouraging him to eat a little of everything, in encouraging him to ask for food when he's hungry. In short, into helping him build a good relationship with food from the beginning.

But the pressure on me, from me, is huge, and right now I'm not sure I can keep it up.

Last night he and I had mozzerella sticks and peanut butter toast for dinner - he wasn't thrilled with the toast, but he ate the cheese, and we had a nice dinner together that we both enjoyed. That counts for something, right?

in the closet, or out?

I wrote some posts ahead, to be scheduled after I figure out when I'm telling people about our upcoming addition to the family. The first part of this was written at 5 weeks and 4 days pregnant by my count (and I know when I ovulated, so I'm pretty sure I'm spot on). The second part, at 8 weeks 6 days.

*****

When I was pregnant with Acorn, I put off buying maternity clothes. First, because I couldn't believe I was finally pregnant, and second because I was so stinkin' sick with morning sickness I couldn't imagine shopping...besides, I was embarrassed to be shopping for maternity clothes when clearly, I didn't look pregnant, I was *obviously* just fat.

A big part of that was the 2 sizes I lost while vomiting. Seriously, I know my doctors and my insurance company all believe I should lose weight; I don't really think this was what they meant. Belts were a problem at 13 weeks, I started rotating outfits in at 15 weeks (with those belly bands over my regular pants, or over my maternity pants to help hold them up) and I finally put away the last of my normal clothes around 20 weeks.

I bought some things I regretted, because even as a size 14/16/18 (depending on the brand) there aren't a lot of choices, maternity wise. Most maternity stores have limited selection at the mall to begin with, and then only have one little 3 foot section of wall for "plus sizes" which is funny, given that fully half of the female population of the US wears size 14 or larger.

Anyway. When I came home from my 2 week stay in the hospital, my mom packed up all my maternity things while I was napping. I was kind of glad she'd done it - I just wasn't ready to deal with it yet, but seeing it in the closet wasn't going to help either.

On the opposite end of the spectrum....this weekend I unpacked that same bag of clothing. I want - need - time to process.

And I want time to go looking for items to replace the ones I hate. I can go resale hunting over the holiday break, I have plenty of time. Because if I have anything to say about it, this is going to be a healthy full term pregnancy, and I'm going to wear this stuff longer than the 6-8 weeks of use it got last time.

*****

I'm still contemplating what to do about clothing. I have no desire to out myself at work just yet. But in the evenings when I get home, I long for the comfort of yoga pants. My belly hasn't grown - the morning sickness this time around has required drugs, in fact, and I lost 6 pounds between week 6 and week 8. Part of it, I'm sure, is constipation caused by the medication. But anything tight is just....too tight.

I did go buy some things on sale. And maybe I'll buy a few more in a month or so - I still have to figure out telling the people I see every day (work, and Acorn's staff), much less the family. But by then I'll probably be wearing maternity clothes anyway

This is the part I dread, actually - telling people. It's different telling friends. Friends are all glad for you - even the ones who hate kids, and the ones  who are jealous. Actually, sometimes especially the ones who are jealous, the ones who've had their own fertility struggles. They know how much it means.

Co-workers are funny about this sort of thing. They know you'll be out; they know they'll be expected to carry some of the load. I worry about their reaction, given Acorn's history and early arrival.

I'm still happy, don't get me wrong - but today the anxiety is getting to me.

Mixed Emotions

Have I mentioned yet that being pregnant terrifies me?

First, there's the fact that my body actually did what it was supposed to, all by itself. That's completely unprecidented, and it  makes me wonder a bit if I was abducted by aliens.

Second, there's the timing. Seriously. Acorn will be getting his trach out in the spring, and if all goes well this little one - who I've decided to call Leaf here on my blog - will be born mid-to-late summer.

If all doesn't go well, Leaf will be making his or her arrival about the same time Acorn gets his trach out, and we'll be jumping right back into this whole crazy mess.

Third....there's a baby. In my belly. That will need food and clothing and some sort of child care and we've been terribly spoiled the last couple of years with good child care for Acorn that has been paid by our insurance, and we'll be picking up the tab for Acorn's care too.

Fourth, the morning sickness has been awful, and though I'm now taking medication for it, I worry about side effects and I worry that the horrific morning sickness means there's more to worry about.


On the plus side....

There's a baby.
In my belly.
And I don't think anything could make me happier

New Therapists, New Diagnoses

We love watching the show House - we're sort of a mystery diagnosis and crime lab junkie household, even though we don't have cable and don't watch a lot of TV. And since we spend so much time with hospitals and doctors, a lot of the things on House are super funny to us.

In one episode, Dr House says something along the lines of, "pick your specialist, pick your disease" - basically, that a doctor will find something in his or her specialty that matches your symptoms, even if what you really have is an illness that belongs to another specialty.

This week, that's sort of how we're feeling at our house. As I tweeted last night, "my kid's superpower: magically pulling medical conditions out of nowhere." Acorn went to his intake appointment for the new speech therapy program, and came home with 3 new diagnosis codes - oral dysphagia, expressive language disorder, and receptive language disorder.

I still have some issues with that last one, but the therapist assures us it's not as bad as it sounds - she's more concerned that he only follows directions for some people and not others, than about him not actually understanding what's said. I suppose I can go along with that, but I was already wondering how much of what we see is his actual personality, how much is his attempts to exert control over situations, how much is him manipulating people, and how much is actual delay...and this just adds to that feeling.

He ate for her, though obviously not at an age appropriate level - she was pleased, though, with what she saw. We'll be going forward with a combined speech & feeding therapy program, because right now the issues are all somewhat tied together. And I'm hopeful that we'll make progress this way - not that he hasn't been making progress, but that a little faster progress is always nice.

After the fun of speech, we left him at home to meet his new child psychologist, and while there's no diagnosis there...there's agreement that his reactions (over reactions) to doctors offices and the like are, as I put it, "understandable, but not OK."  I'm fully of the belief that there's no need for him to be so anxious about doctors that he makes himself sick or shuts down, and that we should do something about it other than wait and hope it gets better.

If nothing else, having someone with a PhD after their name telling doctors and hospitals that certain things are just not going to fly with Acorn will be a help.

Naming the new feature, and other miscellany

The new feature, which contains various resources for Pagan Parents, is being called "Weaving our Web" - there's a page explaining it on the right, and there will be a link to all the posts there.

Speaking of pages, I think now that there are pages available, I need a different template so I can get them in the right place. The search is on - or, if you know someone who does blog remodelling at a reasonable price, let me know.

We've had 2 weeks of insanity here, with Acorn being dropped from home-based therapy with no transition plan to get him into outpatient. We've also had an IEP meeting, adjourned the meeting without signing it, and are waiting on details.

I've got a couple extra appointments in the works for him as well - one to hopefully find someone who can help with the anxiety issues, and one who can help forge a better working relationship with the school - Acorn is one smart cookie, even if he doesn't talk, and the school doesn't always know how to work with him effectively.

At any rate, we're still afloat, but barely. We really could use a bit of good news, or at least a reduction in drama, or an increase in sleep.

Anxiety in Spades

Some days, it occurs to me that Acorn comes by his anxiety naturally.

My mother's partner passed away earlier this week. I did not really know her. But my mother needs some support, and the likelihood of anyone else in our family going to the funeral is slim to none, so I feel like I need to go.

I don't like leaving my kiddo behind. The one trip I've taken for work was downright traumatic on that front, and this one involves a weekend - and I often feel like that's the only time I get with Acorn.

I don't like last minute things like this - I found out yesterday afternoon, and I have a flight out of here at 9 am tomorrow. I always feel like being rushed is going to result in something being forgotten or lost or otherwise screwed up.

And finally, I really struggle with anxiety when it comes to groups of people I don't know. As far as I can tell, I'm driving from the airport, an hour and a half into the middle of nowhere, and attending a gathering of people I don't know, in honor of someone else I didn't know. I know that to some extent, I will be put on display as my mother's daughter, the one with the sick kid, and I really just hate that.

I dunno. I'm kind of hoping for a relatively quiet weekend with some down time to meditate and write. But knowing my own anxiety, the situation, and my mother, I'm guessing that's a long shot.