2 1/2 weeks and counting till' little Fin's arrival. Aside from, crowded and large, I'm feeling fairly anxious. When I first found out I was pregnant I was brimming with delight and enthusiasm, (labor being a good 7 months off), and now I find myself laying in bed in the wee hours of the morning, mourning that inevitable day. The thought seems to twist my stomach into untieable knots.
I just don't remember being this worried in times past. With Ky I was naive, and with Bridge I spent my time worrying about the recovery/newborn stage. But, with this one, I just plain cower at the thought of the needles, drips, and the 18 hours prior to baby's arrival. What's more is the very positively negative response I get when I ask other mothers about life after #3. The word, "Doomed" seems to surface again and again.
So, there you go, with looming visions of labor and the sound of experienced mothers everywhere chanting "Your Doomed", I cannot seem to get much sleep past 5:30am.
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