I’ve done pretty well up until this morning, not hyperventilating about the ultrasound, and the fact we may realize our baby has three heads or twelve ears. But now it’s only a few hours away and the anxiety is ramping up. I need to be running laps right now, not sitting at desk, adding serial commas to bad sentences.
It must have been so simple in the frontier days, no? You get knocked up, you throw up, you get fat, you have a baby. None of these blood test and sound wave test milestones to reach before we can feel okay. Then again, they had their babies in the field and continued to pick potatoes five minutes later – so I won’t complain.
Send the Cowan clan some happy, one-headed vibes? Thank ye.