Sanity is a miracle in itself

Let’s discuss worrying, boys and girls.

I think the tendency to worry more or less is dependent on each individual, but I also think outside factors play a fairly substantial role.

I’ve known many a pregnant woman who skip through their pregnancies worry-free.

Wait. Before you comment and say, “Nuh-uh! Everyone worries!” let me say I’m not talking about average daily worries. I’m talking about “Will I be pregnant tomorrow?” or “Will I carry this baby to term?” or “Will I carry this baby long enough for him/her to survive on his/her own?” -type worries.

Of course there’s always the Nervous Nelly types who will worry without personal cause (and base their worry on others or some doom-and-gloom news report). They’re special, and they’re not who I wonder about.

And of course worrying is a guaranteed part of motherhood. This fact is why I’m trying to work through my thoughts on worrying right now.

I worried about the safety of my pregnancy from, well, to be perfectly honest, I worried about the safety even before I was pregnant. Miscarriage rates are higher than average for those diagnosed with PCOS. And now, after experiencing a miscarriage, I fear I’ll battle with worry even more.

My point is I worried through what could have been days of blissful happiness. Yes, the worry was warranted, but did it do any good? Probably not. Did it do harm? Probably not. Would I have been happier without it? Sure.

I have a looping mental lecture going on right now, one in which I’m trying to convince myself that worrying isn’t worth it. No matter how much I worry, those fears can’t do anything but steal away happiness.

I’m jealous of the blissfully ignorant who are able to enjoy without fear and don’t have to work at being free from worry. Yeah, I said it.

I am quite the praying type and have faith that God has been there, is there and will be there to hold my hand and grant peace and serenity. I’m also the proactive type who believes God also expects us to do our part and not expect Him to do all the work (when we’re able to, that is).

I’m working extra hard on trying to get this mystery of life figured out before we get pregnant again and I drive myself crazy with worry, wasting away days when I could have been perfectly happy.

Wish me luck.