(no subject)
Gawddammit, we're all out of hot chocolate. Here I am, my last morning before going into the hospital and all I wanted out of life was a nice steaming cup of hot chocolate to dunk cookies into. No joy for me.
Well. Okay. Maybe that's not exactly ALL I wanted.
But it would have been a nice start.
For the record, in a pinch you CAN dunk cookies into coffee. But it's nowhere near in the vicinity of the same.
I couldn't sleep at all last night. Like, at all. Not a wink. I've been tossing and turning for hours, which is not the easiest thing to do when you're nine months along with the big roundness. I've been up since about 4am now, staring at this blank screen, trying to get some semblence of a coherent thought together. So far the best I can come up with is:
Dear LJ,
Something's wrong.
Kthxbye.
Fratboy's convinced I'm worried I'm gonna die from the c section or something. Ummm, no. To be honest, I've been living with the fear that the previa would rupture and I'd die in the back of my mind for months now. Having made it this far I'm finally breathing a sigh of relief that we're going to be okay, for real.
I'm not afraid of meeting Fitzy or bringing him home, despite what a big change it's going to be. I know things are going to be crazy for a while but we'll figure it out. We made it through the screaming bag of hell months with Twisty G and I seriously love that kid retarded no matter how hard he made my life sometimes. I have no doubt I'll feel the same about Fitzy. In fact, I'm rather looking forward to meeting the next great love of my life, which is as it should be I suppose.
(Though between you and me, I am kind of worried he'll be ugly. It's a stupid, vain fear with no basis in reality given how damned cute me, Fratboy and Twisty G all are. But maybe we stole all the cute genes? Maybe poor Fitzy's got nothing left to work with except the left over genes from ugly Uncle Franklin or something? Who the hell knows. I'll love him anyway, but man it would suck if he came out all deformed and hideously ugly. I'm just sayin'.)
That's certainly not enough fear to keep me up all night in knots though.
No, I'm not mourning the loss of it all being over, this being my last pregnancy and kid, blah blah blah. While I certainly can't imagine doing this again, in the back of my mind I know the option is still there if I want it. The factory is only closed as long as I choose to keep it closed. Nothing to fear there.
Definitely not work related. I haven't been at work in months and don't have to go back until next January so I've got plenty of time to angst about leaving my babies and working for a living later.
That's a lot of things this isn't, but not a whole lot of help in figuring out what it IS. Only one more sleep (assuming of course that I can sleep tonight) until I have this kid I wanted so badly and bring him home to our great new house and his great brother and great daddy and wow, gosh darnit isn't it all just greatgreatGREAT?
Apparently not.
On the upside I don't have much time left to worry about it. Very, very soon I'll be way too busy again to have time for stupid post February blahs or existential angst or whateverthehell this is. That's something I guess.
24 hours and counting.
What the hell have I got myself into this time?
Well. Okay. Maybe that's not exactly ALL I wanted.
But it would have been a nice start.
For the record, in a pinch you CAN dunk cookies into coffee. But it's nowhere near in the vicinity of the same.
I couldn't sleep at all last night. Like, at all. Not a wink. I've been tossing and turning for hours, which is not the easiest thing to do when you're nine months along with the big roundness. I've been up since about 4am now, staring at this blank screen, trying to get some semblence of a coherent thought together. So far the best I can come up with is:
Dear LJ,
Something's wrong.
Kthxbye.
Fratboy's convinced I'm worried I'm gonna die from the c section or something. Ummm, no. To be honest, I've been living with the fear that the previa would rupture and I'd die in the back of my mind for months now. Having made it this far I'm finally breathing a sigh of relief that we're going to be okay, for real.
I'm not afraid of meeting Fitzy or bringing him home, despite what a big change it's going to be. I know things are going to be crazy for a while but we'll figure it out. We made it through the screaming bag of hell months with Twisty G and I seriously love that kid retarded no matter how hard he made my life sometimes. I have no doubt I'll feel the same about Fitzy. In fact, I'm rather looking forward to meeting the next great love of my life, which is as it should be I suppose.
(Though between you and me, I am kind of worried he'll be ugly. It's a stupid, vain fear with no basis in reality given how damned cute me, Fratboy and Twisty G all are. But maybe we stole all the cute genes? Maybe poor Fitzy's got nothing left to work with except the left over genes from ugly Uncle Franklin or something? Who the hell knows. I'll love him anyway, but man it would suck if he came out all deformed and hideously ugly. I'm just sayin'.)
That's certainly not enough fear to keep me up all night in knots though.
No, I'm not mourning the loss of it all being over, this being my last pregnancy and kid, blah blah blah. While I certainly can't imagine doing this again, in the back of my mind I know the option is still there if I want it. The factory is only closed as long as I choose to keep it closed. Nothing to fear there.
Definitely not work related. I haven't been at work in months and don't have to go back until next January so I've got plenty of time to angst about leaving my babies and working for a living later.
That's a lot of things this isn't, but not a whole lot of help in figuring out what it IS. Only one more sleep (assuming of course that I can sleep tonight) until I have this kid I wanted so badly and bring him home to our great new house and his great brother and great daddy and wow, gosh darnit isn't it all just greatgreatGREAT?
Apparently not.
On the upside I don't have much time left to worry about it. Very, very soon I'll be way too busy again to have time for stupid post February blahs or existential angst or whateverthehell this is. That's something I guess.
24 hours and counting.
What the hell have I got myself into this time?