Shawn spit up today, and I totally freaked out. I mean not just a little freak out; it was a big, teary mess of a freak out--couldn't hold him any more, had to walk away kind of thing.

I think I over reacted somewhat. A little. Maybe.

I mean, the boy should be allowed to spit up a little formula every now and then without me going crazy. Right?

It wasn't anything like it was when the shunt wasn't working, either. This was not throwing up, it was a wet burp.

It still scared the shit out of me. All I could think is, "No, no, no, no, no...." (add a few swear words and something about how I can't take anything else)

Most of me realizes that paranoid parenting doesn't a good mother make. Still, I am as skittish as a deer near a highway. I have been conditioned to see doom at every turn. It isn't a very good feeling.

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We took both boys for base line CT scans today. I am curious to find out what the doctor will say about them and terrified at the same time.

Oh, God, please let nothing be wrong with their shunts or brains.

I know I've been doing a lot of begging lately. Anyone listening up there? Hello? Anyone? It's me, Stacie. Hello?

Sigh.

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I received a basket of daisies today with no signature. They are beautiful. The note talked about the boys' smiles, so it made me think it came from someone in the blogoshpere. If it was from any of you, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Much love, Stacie