June 15 - later that day

I'm still waiting. Boston is playing Vancouver in the Stanley Cup. I am not allowed to watch it. Apparently the risk of seizure is too high if I get excited about the game. Since I am not an 'excited about hockey' kind of person I'm listening to the game on David's iPhone. Boston just scored a second goal. I sent David out. Hopefully he's found a bar and some food that's better than the muffins he's been living off for the past 48 hours.

I still have a nurse with me. I'm not used to sharing my space 24 hours a day and especially not with a nurse and especially not in a hospital room where neither of us are allowed to leave. Funny though, they've been my saviours. Some are quiet and we just sit together. Others talk about what's going on outside my hospital room doors, I get to hear about the delivery down the hall, the weather, what's going on in the news. And with others we share our lives, our deepest regrets and our hopes for the future. There is something strange about being forced to sitting beside someone you don't know. Our anonymity creating a platform to share details of our lives that I'm sure some of our dearest friends are unaware of. By the end of the 12 hour shift I would hardly call them a stranger - we've laughed together, cried together and will probably never see each other again.

I haven't put a lot of thought into what tomorrow may bring. I have a weird sense of calm, but I'm nervous as hell too. It's out of my hands though, and that's a good thing really. Now we're back on that roller coaster except now I'm in the front seat with my and my baby's health at risk and David's riding in the back getting whipped from side to side and we hit corner after corner. Tomorrow, hold on cause we're going for the loop-de-loops. You know the ones that go upside down and when you get off the ride you have the feeling that the world doesn't face the same way anymore.

I've been convinced since early in the pregnancy that there's a little boy growing inside me, but now one day away from finding out I am having doubts. Maybe it's a girl. A strong little girl. The little life we found out about on the eve of Christmas. The life that will make the stars seem a little closer and teach us what life is really about. As if we need a lesson.