Self Preservation

"Well, this is just freakin' perfect."

"What?"

"I just got online to check my email, and I'm hit with this headline on AOL: 'More US Mothers Dying in Childbirth' and.......uh-huh........oh of course. They say that it's due in part to overweight women having c-sections. Great. Well, just FYI - I'd like to be cremated. And don't marry anyone who isn't old enough to vote. Also, her name can't be Misty, Missy, or Crystal. And also you have to wait at least a year to re-marry and don't forget to brush their teeth, and comb their hair before school. I hate it when kids have bedhead at school. And you have to get them braces because it's important. And for godsake, don't EVER leave them with your parents......."

"Oh stop it, you'll be fine. Get off there. I hate that damn computer.....what timing......."

(see...he knows that within 15 minutes, I'll be crying and shaking in a corner.....a mess that he has to clean up.....not his best event)

15 minutes later.

Crying. Scared. Saying things like "If it comes down to it, and it's either me or the baby - SAVE ME. DO YOU HEAR ME???? SAVE ME!!!!
I adore this baby, but honestly - it isn't him that I'm worried about!

Granted - this isn't the year 1812, nor are we on "ER.".

My rational mind (what's left of it) gets that more than likely - I'll be just fine. BUT......my hormonal, emotionally charged, and lets face it: death-related-issue-having self just RUNS with stuff like this.

I hate surgery.....I'm worried about blood clots.....blood loss......I'm just scared.....and I'm pissed off that I had to read that headline....and then.....as human nature dictates.....the whole entire article. Now the joy and excitement have been replaced (at least for tonight) with fear and making deals with God.

Shit.