Despite all the happiness and tra la la, this is going to be a rough couple of weeks. My amnio is on Thursday, and we'll get the results two weeks after that.
I was fine, fine I tell ya, until last night when, out of nowhere, the Giant Purple Snorkelwacker emerged from my anxiety closet and started gnawing on my leg. The Snorkelwacker, despite his great size, has amazing stealth capability, so he was able to sneak up on me without my seeing him. And once he has his fangs sunk in, he's really hard to shake.
However bizarre it may seem for me to be discussing characters from a long-defunct comic strip in connection with my psychological state, it really helps me to manage my anxieties by turning them into outrageous characters. Otherwise, I start to believe the things they tell me. Horrible, horrible things.
Another thing that would help is for all of my friends and family to grab sticks and rolled up newspapers and give the Snorkelwacker a big smack across the snout, thereby sending him safely back to my anxiety closet, where he can frolic with the dust bunnies and the I'm-Not-Good-Enough monsters to his heart's content.
Will you do that for me, please?