Insonmnia

I can’t sleep. I have been up since 2 am and am still hoping I can get some shut eye before my week in the hospitol. Yes, a week, because that is what they do here in Germany.

Tomorrow I get admitted for a planned c-section on Monday. I know. I should be much happier about the birth of my child, and I am to some extent. I am nervous as all hell. Surgery does not sound fun. My last child died from a massive strep B infection and so I am freaking out about all the stupid possibilities and uncertanties and wracking my brain for anything that might happen that I haven’t thought of yet. I know. Useless waste of energy that one is.

Oddly enough I have been mostly calm leading up to this, with only a few manic days peppered in here and there. I am not really thinking about it. If I do I change my thoughts to more pleasent, positive, and productive thoughts. But tonight I can’t sleep so I think I just need to get my worrying “out there” and be (somewhat) done with it.

So here I am. 5 am. 3 cookies and a bottle of water later, and I still can’t sleep. There isn’t anything worth watching on TV. I don’t feel like investing time in a book. Mom is here but well, it’s 5 am. I wonder if now is a good time to clean out the old towels and sheets from the linens. That would be a quiet task. See? Total avoidence of what is about to happen. I’m good at it. I don’t know whether it’s survival instinct or good old fashioned denial, but I am good at it.

I WILL bring this child home. I will.
I have to go cry now.