Well, the day is finally upon us. After being scheduled, and rescheduled, and scheduled again, tomorrow is (one of)the big day. I had no idea what time we had to be there until the surgery center finally called me at 11:30 today. What did they say?
Crap. REALLY?! 11 freaking o'clock? That means we probably won't even get back to surgery until noon at the earliest. Liam will be starving! And he'll be acting like a maniac! You see, Liam can't have any solids past 5:30 am and clear liquids have to be stopped by 9:30 am. He's used to getting breast fed at 6:30, a bottle at 9:30 and breakfast at 10. He's gonna go nuts. He's going to cry, then I'm going to cry, then everyone will cry. UGH.
It's nearly 9:00 and I still haven't decided if I'm setting an alarm to get up at 5:00 and feed him some huge meal. - He probably won't even want to eat at that time.
And, I really don't know why I've fixated on this whole "not eating thing" either. I'm sure that's the last thing most parents would care about. There is the SURGERY part of tomorrow.
Perhaps I'm in denial and don't really want to think about that? Maybe I really am ok with it since I'm in the medical field? I don't know. And I really thought I was fine and had no concerns until I had my first little panic attack this morning on the way to work. That was fun. I was driving along singing to music when, BAM, my heart was racing, I was crying, and I was....... scared. That lasted about 2 minutes then I was better but maybe I'm not handling this as well as I thought I was?
Maybe I'm just going crazy. Maybe I should stop rambling. Ok. I'm off to decide if I should wake a sleeping baby to force feed it.... decisions decisions