I was packing my bag to go to the hospital to have a c-section for the new baby.
I was packing the baby goodies.
I picked out a cute outfit to wear with my RED shoes.
I packed a Sonlight read aloud from our home schooling 'to do' list because I had visions of all of us snuggled up with the new baby finishing our weeks' reading. (bbbbwwwwhhhhaaaaahhhhhaaaaahhhhhaaaaa)
I cooked some meals for the fridge and freezer.
I was feeling confident in our ability to bring in baby number 4 albeit nervous about the actual surgery - boy did I have that backwards.
I was expecting to party in the hospital room.
I was giddy.
I'm not feeling that way so much this time.
I'm packing a bag to take to the hospital to hand over our youngest child to a surgeon.
I'm packing fuzzy socks and only jammies with snaps all the way up the body because she will have tubes, wires, and major tenderness that will limit what she can wear.
I'm uploading some music to be able to play while in the hospital although I doubt I'll listen to ANY of it.
I'm packing my Kindle to keep from going crazy waiting and watching. I doubt I'll even open it.
I'm having the kids pick out a goodie each for Charlotte. Riley will pick one of his little jingle bugs he bought her for Christmas and the girls get to pick out a soft blanket each to send with her.
I'm trying to remember to make some food for my family to eat while I'm at the hospital and not on duty at home.
I'm eating stupid amounts of chocolate to try and distract my mind. It's NOT working.
I'm starting a blog where my words, heart and mind will collide. I hope no one has a teacher pen on them.
Alan and I have had to have hard conversations with our other kids to prepare them for the best case scenario and the worst. (LIKE THAT WORKS....)
At 13 weeks of age, almost to the MINUTE, they will start the surgery to mend her heart physically.
I'm praying like crazy.