Can't sleep Can't eat Have to be up very early!

Well, I have 25 mintues left in the evening in which I can either eat or drink. I've had some water, some chocolate, and some milk. The last was to hopefully help me get to sleep. I've been trying to sleep since 10pm. No luck. This is of course due to the question asked me today by TWA Pilot, "Do you think you will sleep tonight?" The answer was yes, but now I realize I was fooling my psyche. I even stayed awake while the children slept today so I would be totally exhausted by night time. I did laundry, I wrote a two page list of guidelines for my mother regarding the girls, and I wrote very exact directions on downloading pictures from the camera and posting them to the blog for tomorrow. None of this appears to have worked. This would not really matter if I had to wake up at a normal hour tomorrow. However, I have to wake up at 4:30am to arrive at the hospital at 6am. I am going to be so incredibly tired and cranky.

Wouldn't it be nice if I could sleep while I am being prepped for the c-section? This won't be possible as every nurse or doctor that comes in asks your name, your birthdate, the name of your first born child, etc. so as to not get you confused with another patient. I'll be poked with an IV, have an catheter put in, will be asked to swallow an awfully bitter medicine to keep me from regurgitating what might possibly be left in my empty stomach, and then wheeled to the OR. While in there the anasthesiologist will poke me in the spine to administer the anasthesia and then proceed to hook me up to a machine that constantly takes my blood pressure and records my heart rate. At some time Phill will be allowed in (when I'm completely draped with the various cloths and barriers to keep from seeing what is happening to me) wearing scrubs to sit at my head and talk to me as the procedure takes place. Will he content himself to that end? No, not if everything goes as smoothly with me as it did with Larien's birth. He'll watch the surgery and tell me when the head is coming out, etc. At some time the doc lifts the baby up high enough so I can see the pink body and tears will burst forth from my eyes. Phill will also wipe away tears saying something really sweet and wonderful. Then he'll quickly glance at me once the baby is out so he can go watch him being evaluated by the pediatric team. I'll say, "Go, I'm fine." The OB will tell me that I'm going to feel some pulling while they close me up, and I'll try to relax. Once the baby is cleaned and has had his apgar scores taken a nurse or Phill will bring him over so I can look at him more closely. I won't be able to hold him due to all the contraptions on my arms, but tears and smiles will come again.

When I'm wheeled to the recovery room a battle axe nurse (these are the only ones for this job) will watch over me while my hips and legs regain feeling and my blood pressure stabilizes to normal. I'll beg and beg for just one bit of ice, and she'll refuse constantly (as she is her job). At some time I'll decide I can try to sit up a bit more. I may then feel a bit sick and will have to be lowered down again. I will then try a few minutes later pushing every envelope in my body just so I can get to a room to hold my baby. I'm not the quickest to recover from anasthesia (even the local/spinal kind), so it could be after lunch time before I can see him. You wouldn't want me dropping him or puking on him.

Once I see him, my recovery will be complete and I'll settle into the routine of nursing him every two hours while nurses check on me, poke me, and get me up out of bed. I'll be in the hospital until Saturday at the least. I really prefer to be home, so I hope to be out before Sunday.

Well, now just 6 minutes left to consume something and to take my penicillin for my rapidly healing strep throat. Am I sleepier? Not really, but exhaustion will soon kick in.