When I was little, I could never go to sleep on Christmas Eve, even though I knew that if I did that Christmas would "come sooner." Close your eyes, open them, and voila! Presents!
But I would stay awake and read, or just lay in bed staring at the wall. Right now I feel the same way, but instead of Christmas it's Max coming home from the Hospital. Except while Christmas comes no matter what, we're still not 100% sure Max will be coming home Sunday. He needs to a) pass his car seat test (he's doing that right now... or at least sometime during night shift) and he also needs to b) not have any serious Apnea events, which would mean an automatic longer time in the hospital.
And here I am, up later than I thought I would be, anxious about the wonderful present we will receive into our home tomorrow. At least, that is our hope and prayer, and that Isabelle will follow soon after.
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