What becomes of a good mind

This morning, I was surprised by how long Lauren slept. 8:45. That's the time of her first stir this morning. Normally, one would think this is a wonderful gift. Who wouldn't want to sleep a little later, especially when the previous night was spent playing cards with the neighbors until 1? However, something has happened to my mind after becoming a parent; something that has rendered the supposed gift a source of incredible angst. You see, my mind finally realized that at 8 o'clock I had heard absolutely no sounds coming through the baby monitor. A mild sense of discomfort washed over me. Did she sneak out of her room? Of course, this thought leads to an even more disturbing thought: Did she sneak out and fall down the stairs and is now unconscious on the landing? So, instead of enjoying this extra sleep, I am now lying awake in bed wondering what horrific injury might have befallen my little girl. I now have to get up to check the door. Relieved to see it still shut, I return to bed to try to enjoy this unexpected respite.
After still hearing nothing by 8:15, my imagination began to concoct fantastic scenarios to explain this silence. Maybe someone snuck into the house and took her. Maybe a flying monkey swooped in through the window to kidnap her. So now, the thought occurs that I need to go into the room to see if she is still there. Then my mind comes to its senses, realizing that if she is sleeping, going into the room would surely put an end to that. But ... what about the flying monkeys? How can I be sure she is still in there? In the end, I decide I have to just let my imagination run wild until I get audible confirmation she is still in there.
Instead of enjoying a long, restful sleep, my stupid imagination had to go off and freak me out, forcing me to lie awake and hope for any sign of life from the nursery. *sigh* What hath parenthood wrought upon my once beautiful mind?