Only one more sleep until the big ultrasound. T minus 29.5 hours.
I am a complete and utter nervous wreck at the moment.
I wish, hope and pray that everything goes well and that we hear nothing but good news about our Scrappy. I’m finding myself incapable of concentrating, or even thinking about anything else. I’m putting off all other thoughts and decisions until after the ultrasound. My attention is a white-hot laser beam of focus right now and I find myself barely capable of going through through the motions of being at work; I am not at all present.
I just called my husband and babbled something completely incoherent to him. I have no idea what I was trying to say and now both of us are confused. What a state I'm in. I feel like I'm going insane.
Every minute that ticks by feels like at least 20. Could it even be possible that time is going backwards??
By the time 4:30pm tomorrow rolls around, it is entirely likely that I will have dissolved into some sort of hideous, crazy buzzing neon foam entity.
Behold, Hilary in just 29 hours from now (note the buff arms and atrophied legs due to the prolonged cultivation of my 'fight or flight' anxiety response):