Yep, it's about time to freak out

Ok, so I have an overactive imagination. Sometimes that's been pretty useful in my life. But for the most part, it's been annoying.

So I'm less than 3 weeks away now and after my appointment this week, I'm getting worried that I won't make it to June 8. And I am so not ready for this baby to come.

I'm freaking out, like really freaking out, to the point I feel like crying and throwing a gigantic temper tantrum. I can't remember what I learned in my childbirth class about when I need to go to the hospital because you don't go immediately when you go into labor. They recommend you stay home and they have this code thing, 5-1-1, that tells you when to go to the hospital and I don't remember what that means!

Right this minute, I'm internally freaking out about Allen being gone this weekend because Murphy's Law is that it will happen this weekend. Corbin will get a spanking if he tries to come this weekend and Allen misses him being born! I really didn't think it'd bother me so much for him to be gone. It's only for one night and I know it's a much needed trip for him but now that it's here, I am so scared. I'll probably scare myself right into labor.

The room is still not done. But that's not really that big of a deal. What's worse is that I have not packed my hospital bags, I have not packed Corbin's stuff. I also don't have any of his clothes washed yet, none of his stuff is out yet and his cradle is full of baby stuff. Oh yeah and we still don't have a crib.

Oh yeah and then the actual process of labor is really freaking me out. I don't like doctors and I don't like being half naked in front of people and I don't like pain so I don't think I will like the labor process. And I just find it hard to believe a baby is going to come out of the place it comes out. I just think it's impossible. And now that I know my baby is a big, fat baby, that makes it worse.

So see, I'm freaking out. Really freaking out. I am in the process of having a panic attack just typing this. I don't know what I was thinking but I was not meant to do this labor thing. I just wasn't. It's not in my DNA. I could die or worse, I could live and have the baby and then have to come back and read how ridiculously freaked out I was. Then I'd feel really stupid.