Well, friends. We are 13 days away from baby day.
We go to the hospital for the planned C-section on the 27th unless labor progresses on its own before then.
We are under two weeks away.
I say ‘we’ although it feels more like ‘I.’
Ya know… I carried this baby. I tore my body up. I suffered and puked and cried and endured the pregnancy on my own. Somehow it still feels selfish to take all the credit. I’m conflicted, however, because a cesarean is no joke and I’m the one going under the knife. To be honest, I’m scared to death to do it again, but I understand it’s something I’ve got to do. I’ve expressed my worry to my fiancé and he is very supportive and doing his best to understand, but in the back of my mind I still know that after all, it’s me that is ultimately going through this. Not him. He is in a way – but not really.
So yeah, I’m anxious and worried and scared.
So send good vibes and wish us luck on a healthy remaining two weeks!!! Because I’m doing my best to try to keep my mind at bay, but it’s been a struggle and every day that we get closer is another day closer to me freaking out!
I can do this. Almost there.
Between the Lens 