Counting how many times my children's chests rise and fall when they're asleep. I was really bad when my two oldest kids were little (they're 17 and 18 now). I would stand and count to whatever number seemed right, then go back and count again because I was afraid I had messed up. My symptoms decreased, then went away during the four years I was in college, and then I started having panic attacks and quit school with only a semester left. My youngest is 2 1/2, and I find myself again doing it, though not as bad as before. Except for when he was first born. For about a month I was a mess. Counting constantly, afraid I had killed him. One night I took a bag of trash out, and I had to keep checking to make sure I didn't put him in the bag. I would look at him in is cradle, count his breaths, believe I was imagining things, then go back out and check the trash bag again. I had to wake up my husband so that he could assure me everything was ok.
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