The Sun'll Come Out, To-mor-row

And we'll all be up to see it - dawn, that is.

Tomorrow's d-day - as in, de-hernia-ing day for Matthew.

I have focused intently on NOT focusing on this moment for weeks. Now, tomorrow, my son will be wheeled away in a wagon after being given "happy juice," after we arrive at 6:30 a.m. at St. John's with nothing in his tummy and his jammies and dirty diaper still on (aka hopefully he's sleeping).

He'll then be given anesthesia, operated on, and returned to us promptly within 45 minutes.

Forty-five long minutes, in which I've already been warned by a well-meaning colleague that I may "just have to let it out." I feel guilty but I'm not sure what "it" is really? I am so focused on not worrying, I can't really predict if I'll get emotional?

But I do know when I was reading to him tonight, I was kinda going in for extra kisses, extra hair brushing off his face. I was disappointed when he wanted to go right in his crib vs. demanding extra cuddling time like most nights.

And yes, I am still awake when I shouldn't be because yes, I guess I'm nervous.