Not in the puppy love sense. In the anatomy sense.
My rational self keeps saying that that the markedly fast pace, the subtle irregularity, the occasional missed beats in a wonderfully active 3-year-old are nothing to worry about.
My irrational self had me up in her bedroom, on four separate occasions during the night, crouching over her sleeping self with a stethoscope I found in the girls' doctor kit trying desperately to convince myself that I was imagining all these things.
Well, the pediatrician just now confirmed that yes, these things do exist.
But no, they are not a reason to panic.
He is sending us to the cardiologist later this afternoon for follow-up more, he says, for my peace of mind than for any pressing medical reason with my daughter.
But my god, how my own chest hurts today. I feel like my skin has been removed and that even the slightest breeze sends painful currents skimming through my body. The rawness that accompanies a fear for your child's health is a sustained torture like no other.
I will continue to tell myself that it's nothing, that everything is fine. But at the same time, I look at my 3 children, and I ponder all of the millions and millions of misfortunes that could potentially befall them, and I wonder how many more agonizing days like this are still in our future.
And I'm not entirely sure my heart can take it.
* * * * * *
UPDATE: The EKG was normal at the cardiologist's, and I have been instructed not to worry anymore. Ha.
In the meantime, I am breathing a massive sigh of relief, and thanking everyone for the profoundly kind words of support. xo.