Praying for peace of mind today! I am the kind of person that worries incessantly over things and becomes uncontrollably anxious. I am a worse-case scenario kind of person, and it really gets on my nerves. Today, Brandon and I decided to get a head-start on cleaning out the basement. Cue me lumbering around and hoisting boxes from the back of the basement, sweeping up tumbleweeds of cat hair, and deciding I would clean out the basement shower stall (where we keep both litter boxes). Many of you might recall my freak out a couple of months ago because I'm pregnant and we have cats. I pretty much diagnosed myself with toxoplasmosis and was a nervous wreck until my blood test results came back negative. I have never had the disease and was not immune to it if it should show up during pregnancy. Keep in mind that I'm not usually the one changing the litter, but I had exposed myself to some form of cat waste that had been the product of someone's (not naming any names) incontinence!
Anyhow, shift to today when I'm cleaning out our basement shower stall. I'm happily lifting out litter pans and putting them down on the floor beside our open door ( score for ventilation) and making a lot of progress. I then start to sweep up scattered litter from four corners of the shower stall, making a big pile that I can suck up with the vacuum cleaner. I'm also wearing gloves (score for hand protection). My eyes then fall on a paint can in the back of the shower stall (no idea why it was there) that looks like it's stuck to the floor. Apparently, a full can of paint has busted. When I attempt to pick up the paint can, it's stuck to the floor. I tug and tug and finally pry it loose, leaving a trail of beige wet paint in my wake. I decide that I must vacuum up litter particles before I even attempt to work with the paint mess. I go upstairs, nearly die dragging the vacuum back down the stairs, hook up my extension and get to work. In the next minute or so, my vacuum gets dangerously full and I have to empty it. While pulling apart the compartment, litter flies everywhere. It's in the innards of the vacuum, and I'm pulling it out with my gloved- fingers. Around this time, my nose starts to itch from the combination of dust and cat litter. Without thinking, I know I lifted one of my hands up at one point to scratch my nose. My fingers had been near the litter. Granted, the litter was not covered in fecal matter and was just loose litter, but -- do you see where my mind's going?
Of course, I wasn't worried about any such thing at the time. My mind was engaged by trying to get my vacuum put back together. If you ever wanted to see a tantrum, I'm sorry you weren't there. I'm pretty sure I swore and hit the vacuum multiple times before giving up and waiting for Brandon to return from the dump.
It wasn't until we had come up from the basement that my mind went there, there being that dangerous place that it goes when I let my fears rule my mind and heart. Insert my mad googling rampage about toxoplasmosis. The links on google were still purple from the last time I went through this. I know that it's not really likely that any of my cats are infected with toxoplasmosis. They are not outdoors and eating wild game or raw meat. I have a greater change of contracting the disease by not washing my vegetables or eating undercooked meat than I do of getting it from my cats. There's just that small, rare possibility that scares me.
And then I realize that these fears usually come on the scene after something really great has happened. I saw my wonderful, precious baby girl via ultrasound on Thursday. You think I'd be set. No, it means it's time to go around looking for more irrational fears to weigh me down. If it's not caffeine, it's paint. If it's not paint, it's cat poop. If it's not that, it's hot showers.
So, tonight, I ask, if you have a moment, that you would pray for my peace. I am so nervous and anxious about everything and nothing these days. I want to trust God and lean on His promises. I'm about to go search for some bible verses to repeat if these feelings latch on too strongly again.
Anyhow, Brandon was getting tired of, "Do you think I have toxoplasmosis? Do you think Natalie's going to be okay? Do you think she'll be handicapped?" -- so I had to come here.
I have a hard time trusting. Can't you tell?
Oh Jami, I hear you. I am a googler of medical symptoms and it's even worse since I'm in nursing school and diagnosis myself with everything I read about.
ReplyDeleteI recently went through a situation where I was googling every other week for a medical situation and I would convince myself I was fine and then two weeks later, I was googling the same thing. I turned out to be fine and normal, and realistically, I knew all along that I was normal, but the fear still got ahold of me.
The point is, some of us are just going to worry and worry and the best you can do is just give it over to God, easier said than done, I know.
I will definitely keep you in my prayers and little Natalie and even Brandon as well. :)
Ok, so the litter box isn't my normal chore so I didn't deal with that when pregnant. BUT what I did do is paint Lilly's room with not low VOC paint with a heater going in the room (it was like 32 degrees in there at the time we were painting). So it's not toxoplasmosis, but I think there are *a lot* of things that pregnant women aren't supposed to do, but babies and momma's are still a-okay.
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