Lost Story #2: The day I was so fat, I broke our hammock!

This is a good one. I have to preface this story by saying that I LOVE hammocks. I've always wanted one, ever since those lazy summer days in middle school when Emily and I would hang out on the hammock on her screened porch for hours. When Eric and I were on our house-hunting trip here in Tampa, I remember driving through our future neighborhood and seeing a guy laying out on his hammock in the backyard by a pond. I said out loud to Eric and our realtor: "I want to be that guy!" And wouldn't you know, a few days later we looked at a house right next door to that one and decided to buy it. My awesome mother-in-law bought us a hammock as a house warming gift and we've since spent many, many days napping in that hammock. Well, me more than Eric. I just loved it. When I was preparing for Siena's birth with a refresher course in Hypnobirthing, my instructor told me to visualize being in the most peaceful, happy place I could think of. And laying in that hammock, staring up at the trees with a cool breeze off the pond was exactly what came to mind.

So, here's the story: Eric, Chase and I went out in the backyard after dinner one evening. I was about 35 weeks pregnant (HUGE!), so I just lumbered over to the hammock and sat down while Chase and Eric ran around. Soon, Chase ran over and jumped in the hammock with me. We were just laying there and a few minutes later, I heard a loud sound and Chase and I landed on the ground (which wasn't too far because I was so low to the ground!) and then, next thing I knew, the metal pole of the hammock stand came crashing down with great speed on the top of my head! Everything went black for a minute and I just sat there in shock. Fortunately, Chase was just fine... it didn't hit him. Eric started asking me questions but all I could do was sit there stunned and in pain. Then of course, I started crying uncontrollably and I started panicking. I asked Eric to call my mom to ask her what we should do, and long story short, she told me to go to the hospital. We sent Chase to the neighbors' and drove to the ER. I had to endure several hours of waiting around, a few giggles from the nurses when I told them I was so fat that I broke our hammock, explaining that my husband hadn't beaten me (they separated us and asked me dozens of questions about that!), and more waiting around. Eventually I was checked out and everything was fine. It hurt quite a bit but other than a big goose egg on my head, there was no harm done. I thought I felt fine and emotionally, I was okay since the doctors assured me that I was alright. However, there must have been some deep-seeded fears in my mind. Fears about dying, internal bleeding in my brain, losing the baby, and thoughts about what would have happened if the pole had landed just a few inches to the other side and hit Chase instead. (to go back a bit, what happened was this: the metal hammock stand had corroded on the inside and burst apart at one of the welds, so when we hit the ground inside of the hammock, it pulled the poles down with it). Thinking back, I'm pretty sure my fears stemmed from the whole Natasha Richardson thing... remember that? She injured her head in a skiing accident, but felt fine immediately afterward... only to die later from the head injury. But I told myself that of course, getting hit on the head with a hammock pole isn't nearly the same as falling down a mountain, so I went to bed calmly that night. But then woke up an hour later, full of fear again. My whole body hurt and something just didn't feel right. I remember getting up to go to the bathroom, barely being able to walk, and then as I sat down, I realized I was shaking uncontrollably. I called out for Eric, he woke up and came in the bathroom and we both tried to figure out what was going on... was it my head? was I in labor? did we need to go back to the hospital? Of course, we called my mom again because that's just what I always do (she worked as an ER/trauma nurse for many years) and she asked Eric a bunch of questions and concluded that I should just try to lay back down and relax a minute before going back to the hospital. So Eric and I laid down in bed and he just wrapped his arms around me and held me tight so I'd stop shaking so much. I remember praying over and over again. Sometimes you don't know exactly what to pray, or you can't think clearly, and in that case I just say the most powerful name in the world: Jesus. Or I'll remember that Anne Lamott says that all prayers can be simplified into the following: "please, please, please" or "thank you, thank you, thank you." That night I just kept saying "Jesus, please, please, please." I tried not to think about my head too much, but really what I was praying was this:
"Jesus,
Please don't let me die.
Please if I die, let me be in heaven with you and let Siena live here on earth.
Please if Siena lives, send Eric some help because he's going to need it!"

Really, I was thinking these things! Very slowly, the shaking stopped and eventually I fell asleep and I was fine in the morning. We no longer have a hammock. But we do have our Chase and Siena, who was born 2 weeks later!