Friday morning I was sitting on the couch checking my email, both kids were playing in the floor, it was a typical morning. Then Jocelyn started choking. She’d cough, gag, then choke. I jumped off the couch to get her and she was ok. She acted like she was chewing on something then she coughed and gagged again. I swept her mouth and found nothing. She seemed fine but within a few seconds she’d started the same pattern. Finally after three times of trying to swipe whatever it was out of her mouth I felt it. At the very back of her tongue almost down her throat was something flat, my first thought was plastic and as I tried to get it out, she turned her head. Whatever it was, I knocked it loose and she started the pattern again only this time with more force. To say my heart stopped beating is putting it mildly.
With a second or so, the choking stopped, she started to cry and all seemed ok. She swallowed the object and went about her day of being happy and perky. But I couldn’t do that. I freaked. As in, I freaked plum out as some locals say. I kept thinking of what could have happened if she hadn’t swallowed it. I kept thinking the worst of what that could mean, the idea that I couldn’t have saved her wouldn’t leave me. I relived those what if moments over and over all day long.
I sent Bo a message about what happened, and when he finally was able to call me back I was so out of it, he told me to call the dr. just to help me settle down. Well that didn’t really do it because they wanted to see her as soon as possible. Ok. Here I am with a hairstyle I haven’t quite figured out yet, that hasn’t been washed in two days, so it’s like EVERYWHERE CRAZY STYLE. Yes caps help get the point across on how bad it was, ah hem. I was in a long sleeved Mickey Mouse shirt with a hole in it, and baggy jeans. Now when your child is in danger what you look like or what you are wearing should not be on the top of your list, and it wasn’t mine necessarily. What was on my mind was “SHE ALMOST CHOKED TO DEATH ON MY WATCH”. Then to hear that they wanted to see her ASAP, didn’t help my nerves. I called Bo and begged him to come home because me behind a wheel, haha yeah not a good idea. Then I noticed that I looked like a hobo.
We get there and she hadn’t had a chewing or gagging fit since right after she swallowed whatever it was. Even Bo asked me if I was sure she swallowed something. UM HELLO SHE CHOKED, I may have OCD but I didn’t imagine her choking. They did an X-ray, and found nothing. Plastic wouldn’t show up on one so more than likely that’s what it was. Phew, talk about relief when the doc said she should pass whatever it was without problem.
The doctor, and even Miss, kept saying to me she’s fine you did what you were supposed to, everything is alright. Yeah I know that, but that’s not what my brain was focused on, it was the bad. It was the fact that my main phobia is the kids getting hurt under my care. I don’t feel capable of taking care of them on my own; I don’t have faith in myself even though I watch them far more closely than most parents do. I have always had this issue of not feeling good enough to be able handle things. I have no faith in myself, on anything in my life. And when one of the kids gets hurt, it screams that I’m right. That I’m not good enough, that I can’t do this without someone who’s better than I am to supervise. Stupid but true.
I know I’m capable of taking care of the kids. I know I’m good at it. I know I watch them closely and are overly protective in many ways. I KNOW THIS. But without the faith in myself to back it up, it means nothing.
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