I thought about not writing about this. In fact, I decided I wasn't going to. And yet-here I am about to tell all about my glorious night last night.
I went to bed. Ah, sweet sleep! It didn't take long before I was zonkered, one arm hanging off the side of the bed, the same with my leg. The stretched out I was, the better. It was so HOT!
But at 11:47, I woke up with INTENSE pains in my abdomen. YOWZA! I ran to the bathroom and sat,well, in the ONLY sitting area of a bathroom. Oh, the pain! It was killing me! I was squeezing my belly-as if that would help-and watching the nightlight in anguish. I thought, "okay. If you have to throw up-the garbage can is right there." That is the last thing I remember before I woke up, disoriented on the floor.
My head was tingling in pain. I didn't know where I was, how I got there, or how LONG I had been there. Eventually I figured out it was the floor.
I sat back up on the John (not John, THE John) and realized again the intense pain in my belly. Then-DUH-it hit me. I had passed out. My whole body was shaking. My forehead had broken my fall on the bathroom linoleum. As it was all becoming clear to me, I felt a wave wash over me again, blurring my mind, and knew that if I passed out again, I might not wake up. I knew I had to DO something. So I got up and turned on the light.
Now, up until this point, I had remained fairly calm-that is, for a woman in a post-football tackle, zombie state. Then I saw my face in the mirror.
HORROR OF HORRORS. I was pale as a sheet. Or worse. That REALLY freaked me out. That is when I knew things were NOT so hot and I had to DO something. So, I did what any freaked out person would do.
"MATTIE! MATTIE" I screamed. Nothing. I think I called his name four times. And then I screamed "COME HERE!" That must have been it because he came running at that point.
I started washing my face with freezing cold water, trying desperately to push aside the possibility of fainting again. I knew I had to stay awake and I knew just what I had to do.
I knew it was a faint possibilty, it has been outlined clearly in small print. I just didn't know it could happen to me. But it did.
I began to feel better, slowly but surely, after things had been taken care of. I went back to bed. Matt was still wide awake and he held me. Maybe he felt what I had, maybe he had been thinking about the 'could have beens' too.
Eventually I heard him fall asleep but it wasn't until about 3:30 in the morning that I finally dozed. Up until that point, my mind had wandered, my heart had prayed, and my head had pounded.
It was a bad night. But a good night. The Lord had opened my eyes to the fact that with morning light came a gift. Another day to hold my babies was a treasure. To realize the overwhelming sweetness of gentle arms around me at night, once more.
Now, mother hens out there-you needn't worry. I knew what the problem was, I knew how to fix it, and I am now feeling almost entirely myself again (lacking sleep, but still...) I am fine. I am better than fine now. The Lord thought it a good time to remind me of my gifts, when I was being quite ungrateful, if I do say so myself.
My heart got some healing. Now for that banged up forehead and knee....well, that might take a week or so.