It’s amazing how much worrying one can do from 5-6 a.m. While the rest of the house slumbered, I managed to worry about everything from birth announcements to how to use that nasal aspirator thingie. I worried about what I have in the hospital bag (and what I don’t), what I’ll do in the hospital/at home (and what I’ll screw up), how I’ll be able to love my baby until that hideous umbilical cord stump falls off, if I can stand getting a desperately needed pedicure (having someone cut my toenails freaks me out to no end), what Dr. Doom will say at my appointment in eight hours…and don’t even get me started about the mental freak-outs regarding Lenny’s potential name(s).
I finally gave up and came out to the living room to write it all out and eat a couple of chocolate chip muffins. Both seemed to have helped. Thanks, internets.