So This Is What It Is Like
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So this is what it is like. The night before my baby girl is, well, you know. Put under general anesthesia. Cut open. Repaired. This is it. I would expect to feel more nervous than I do. This is typical me, though. I do quite well during the crisis. Sitting on the couch. Blogging. Going over petty work details in my head.
Meanwhile, Rob is downstairs doing the laundry for my hospital stay with the baby. Chandler is watching something on TV. Alia is giggling at a friend's house. And Neviyah, my precious baby, is sleeping next to me. Unaware that in two and a half hours she will get her last breastfeeding until after surgery.
This won't hit me until I drop her into the arms of the doctor or nurse. When I am walking back to the waiting room. It is then that the events to take place will be revealed to me and I will become like a deer, paralyzed, hoping that the car will drive past and not over me.
For now, my denial is good company.
...
So this is what it is like. The night before my baby girl is, well, you know. Put under general anesthesia. Cut open. Repaired. This is it. I would expect to feel more nervous than I do. This is typical me, though. I do quite well during the crisis. Sitting on the couch. Blogging. Going over petty work details in my head.
Meanwhile, Rob is downstairs doing the laundry for my hospital stay with the baby. Chandler is watching something on TV. Alia is giggling at a friend's house. And Neviyah, my precious baby, is sleeping next to me. Unaware that in two and a half hours she will get her last breastfeeding until after surgery.
This won't hit me until I drop her into the arms of the doctor or nurse. When I am walking back to the waiting room. It is then that the events to take place will be revealed to me and I will become like a deer, paralyzed, hoping that the car will drive past and not over me.
For now, my denial is good company.
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