Oh. My. God.
I had an incident this morning.
An incident with the needle.
I stuck it in my belly and then realised I had not dialled up the dose.
So I had to do it again.
Because, you know, any extra times you have to slam that piercy needleness into your skin is just a bonus really. Wonderful.
I slept badly and was more foggy-brained than usual. Plus I am finding that instead of being something that you do over and over and you get used to, or better at...this is not getting any easier at all.
In fact, it seems to be getting worse. During the day my mind will wander to that dreaded daily moment and I literally feel queasy in the stomach.
I don't know what your first thought is when you wake up, but mine causes a knot of anxiety to lump in my throat.
I've always wanted to snatch an extra few minutes sleep when I first open my eyes, but now I have one more massive reason to do so.
It is ridiculous after all, I mean how on God's green earth am I going to cope with birth if I cannot handle a tiny micro needle? And it should all end by this weekend - another four days or so.
So, I have to place my faith in the power of the mind to help me...BUCK UP AND GET THE HELL OVER IT, PRINCESS!