Thursday, December 27, 2012

Mommy's First Panic Attack

I was praying this day wouldn't come because I knew that if it did, there would be no possible way I could keep procrastinating. Despite knowing that something is not right with me, I still haven't called the doctor yet.

The day after Christmas we woke up early (before the girls were even up!) packed the car, and left Massachusetts for Philadelphia before 8 AM. We planned on stopping briefly at home in Connecticut to drop off the gifts we received from my family and load the trunk with the presents for Mike's family. We only encountered a little traffic right before reaching New Haven, which set us back about a half hour. No biggie; we were feeling pretty good at this point.

My riding buddy
Around 11 we left for Philly. No problems going over the George Washington Bridge in New York City - which is rare - but as soon as we drove into New Jersey on 95 traffic picked up. I checked the crappy new Maps app on my iPhone (can they please get rid of that?) and there was a red line all the way from Newark to Trenton. The app didn't even list 95 as one of our 3 best options. Ugh. We exited before 95 South turned into a parking lot but unfortunately Route 1 wasn't much better...stop lights every few blocks and either snow or freezing rain for the majority of the trip. Note: I sat in the backseat between the girls' car seats for the trip. I don't like sitting there, as it's so tight that I can barely move, but the anxiety that would ensue from me not being able to help either of them if they began crying (and continued, for an extended period of time) outweighs how much I loathe sitting in that tiny prison {for now}.

Right before we got back on a highway Carina threw up all over herself, the car seat, her favorite monkey, and a whole slew of other things that were hanging out in the backseat. The combination of the traffic, the prospect of being in the car for another few hours, the discomfort of sitting in the backseat, and then Carina blowing chunks everywhere...I lost it. I started shaking, hyperventilating, screaming, and crying. I had no control over myself. The epitome of a freak-out; I felt crazy

IRONY - she never took bottles as a baby
Mike held my hand until he was able to pull over a minute or so later. He changed Carina while I attempted to calm myself down. She asked me a handful of times, "Mommy okay?" and it broke my heart.

The rest of the trip included Aurelia projectile vomiting all over herself and at least an hour of incessant fussing and crying - both girls. Carina wanted milk but had already finished all we brought with us and neither sippy cup was clean. Luckily I had about 4 oz. of pumped breastmilk and a bottle handy. So...envision me, trying to keep a binky in Aurelia's mouth with one hand, and helping Carina drink breastmilk out of a bottle with the other as we cruised down the Pennsylvania Turnpike in the rain. I had a big drink when we finally arrived in Philly, at 4:30 PM.

I don't think we'll ever attempt to drive from Mass to Philly (or vice versa) in one shot least not for a long time. It's not fair to the girls and to be truthful I just don't think I can handle it. I hate to think that my outburst and shaking scared them. I know I scared Mike, but am thankful he acted fast to get us pulled over. First stop when we get home next week? My doctor's office. I never want that to happen again, especially in front of the girls.
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