TIME

I started a rather serious post about how terrified I am right now: scared I’ll won’t bring home a baby – scared that I actually might.

Unfortunately, I just can’t spend a lot of time at a keyboard right now as each tap is like keying over shards of glass. That should also explain my limited commenting. That is, if you noticed.

Today I am supposed to finish up some preadmission bloodwork. Tomorrow I check in by 10:00 a.m. and if all goes well I will have my c-section at noon and meet Murdock. Sounds so simplistic, doesn’t it?

I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to update again. I suspect that I’ll be discharged by the weekend, barring any complications. Depending on how I feel, I might even be able to hijack a computer at the hospital since my laptop will be useless. And as I mentioned before, I will update via Twitter when I can.

As for the rest of my day, I will try to pack and work on convincing myself that I might actually be able to pull this off, this birthing a baby thing, without waking up and finding out that the past year has been nothing but an elaborate dream sequence of which the likes haven’t been seen since the TV show Dallas reincarnated Bobby (if you have no idea of what I’m referring to, I envy your youth). A year ago, I was recovering from my 4th miscarriage and my XXth Birthday, waiting for a donor match.

A million years ago…

A millisecond ago…