If Baby Fell

When I awoke Tuesday morning at 4:00 am, I knew I was destined to not get any more sleep for the evening. As a pregnancy "veteran", I was certain I knew what was going on, so when I woke up and felt immense pressure on my thighs, I thought "this must be it. The baby has dropped." Granted, Jude never did drop, but I was still certain that this feeling, although new, was something I understood. All day I felt the same pressure, literally as though the baby were resting on the top of my legs, which understandably meant that it was difficult to walk. I stepped up my efforts to get things ready for the baby, certain that this latest development meant that I would never make it to my c-section date (which is only 22 days away). I was tired and irritable, certain that those were signs, too, that my hormones were supercharged, ready for the big day. I still felt baby's movement, but much differently than I was used to, another sign to me that it was getting ready to happen.

I went to sleep that night and slept hard, something that hadn't happened in months (literally). When I awoke in the morning, the first thing I noticed was that the pressure was gone and the familiar kicks were back, near and to my bladder. So that just proves, I guess, that I know absolutely nothing about being pregnant and that labor is likely not imminent. I am also not as in touch with my own body as I thought. I've had contractions (ones I can actually feel) that are so sporadic that at least I know they aren't labor pains. It is comforting to be certain about something at least.

Work irritation of the week: Tuesday, in addition to the pressure I felt, I got really nauseated and disappeared into the rest room. As I was getting sick, I heard the door open and someone called out "hello?" to which I replied "Hello," though in a much more irritated tone of voice. I finished, then headed back to my desk where one boss (not my main boss, but a secondary one) was standing, waiting for me. Apparently he sent someone who had stopped by into the bathroom to check on me. "I'm sorry; I got sick," I said, to which he replied "Well, I couldn't find you and I have something for you to do." This "something" was stuffing checks into envelopes. He had the checks and the envelopes, but apparently couldn't perform the very difficult end step of placing the checks into the envelopes without my assistance. Ah, the compassion. I rather wished I had gotten sick on his shoes instead of wasting it in the bathroom.

Arbitrary addition to my blog: Song of the day. Today's song of the day is "We Both Go Down Together" by The Decembrists. I love it. I am trying to determine how I could come from weatlth and beauty and be untouched by work or duty, but, so far, no luck.