Fed up. A week to go....

I want my body back.
I want my boobs back.
I want to be able to put my own knickers on without falling over.
I want the metallic taste in my mouth to disappear.
Most of all I want to meet my son.

I don't know what I hate more the feeling my ribcage is being pulled apart
or the fact its much harder to breathe.

Seven days have never felt so much like an eternity before...