Panic Button

There was a time when I was grateful for the "Night Owl" that flapped it's little wings inside my head and kept me awake through those endless term papers and closing shifts. Getting by on little to no sleep was a badge of honor for me and many of my similarly sleep deprived friends. Our lives were dedicated to school, work and of course, play. Most of the time my brain was on automatic pilot and there wasn't much time to second guess the decisions I was making. I knew that something (or someone) wonderful would soon be coming my way and it (or he) would be the missing piece of the puzzle that I had been waiting for.


He did come.


He is wonderful.


After a time, two more beautiful puzzle pieces came our way. And with those long awaited pieces came a brand new sensation:


P.A.N.I.C.


This was not a, "First day of school and I notice that the white, jean shorts I was wearing now have fluorescent, green ink all over the backside, courtesy of a leaky highlighter, just in time for me to be called up in front of the whole Freshman science class and introduce myself" brand of panic. (And yes, I do have some form of, "Have a nice summer, 'Green Butt' ", written in my yearbook.........all four years.)


This panic was unlike any panic that I had previously experienced. This was deep down to the depths of my very soul, "You have two of the most precious, most fragile, most important gifts that could ever be given, one wrong move and you could ruin their lives" panic.


I was scared.


I am scared.


With this feeling, came changes to my past nocturnal relationships. The encouraging fluttering that would keep me on task through those long, dark hours, changed to a taunting of sorts. My feathery friend began to turn on me.

"You're doing it wrong." (flap flap)

"No one else is this overwhelmed." (flap flap)

"Everyone else does it better." (flap)


As I lay in bed, willing myself to fall asleep, I was often visited by these destructive phrases. My thoughts would turn to the countless mistakes I'd made that day and the many reasons why I would most certainly fail. When I had tucked the last little one into bed and kissed my husband goodnight, anxiety would begin to take hold and I knew the thoughts that would soon follow.


One night, I was unable to control the stream of hot tears that ran down my face, or the negative reflections from the previous day. It seemed as though I was sentenced to one more night of self loathing. Though my husband was sound asleep next to me, the loneliness I felt was palpable. Panic was poised to take over for the night and I was desperate to avoid it's damaging clutches.


"Oh please!" I prayed, silently. "I just need a hug!"


Not a second had past before I felt Adam's strong grasp around my shoulders. He pulled me toward him, still sound asleep, and protectively clasped his arms together. And that is where he kept me for the remainder of the night.


I gasped at the immediate response to my silent prayer. But more than that, I was filled with gratitude for a loving partner who spends his life trying to shield me from pain and suffering- the dead of night being no exception.


He was everything I ever hoped for when he came to me, more than eight years ago. He arrived all shiny and new, with instructions to "Push in case of emergency". Though many years of his bride slamming on that button have passed, wearing it so thin that there is a groove that perfectly matches my finger, he has never been out of order. He is always there, encouraging me, comforting me, and sometimes, without even knowing it, answering my prayers.

Boy, could I have used him in science class......

"Green Butt" and her "Capt. Awesome"