I said goodbye to Tom and Mad almost an hour ago. Normally I wouldn't have any problem getting back to sleep. Heck, normally I don't even wake up. But in a few hours Fynn and I are heading south of San Diego to visit my sister. I had envisioned a lovely lunch and a walk on the beach or maybe the Tijuana Slough National Wildlife Refuge, which is adjacent to their home. Instead, we'll spend the day sharing as much of a clear liquid diet as I can reasonably partake in without affecting my milk supply and watching the movies she has lined up.
We will probably spend a lot of time talking tonight while everyone else is asleep. She's afraid. She's afraid of the surgery, of the recovery, of waking up and finding that she's grown a beard. Of not being a whole woman anymore. Of sex being different; that she might have a black hole without her uterus.
I am sad. Pretty sure I'd be feeling the same things if the roles were reversed. Not quite sure how to help her see that her fears are normal, but that "normal" doesn't make them true.
Surgery is not until tomorrow at 12:30. That seems like cruelty to me, but maybe she can at least sleep late. I guess a lot of people don't view 7:15 as sleeping in (I don't either, but Mad does). She'll be in the hospital several days. I'll be home tomorrow night. I wish I could stay longer.