My hot date with a guy named Braxton Hicks

So, Dan's trip just couldn't go without drama, right?

Really, everything has been fine-- I'm just tired, and it's been a grind, but that's sort of to be expected. Well, around 4 p.m. yesterday, I started feeling all crampy-- I had had that sort of thing before around 18 weeks, and it turned out to be nothing-- just fatigue. After work, I had to go see the midwife (not my midwife, just whoever was in the health center) to get my TB test read, and I happened to mention that I had been having some cramping and back pain on and off for the past hour or so. Well, this midwife was like, "Well, you need to go home and lie down right now and put your feet up and drink a ton of water." I said, "OK, I can drink water and try to take it easy, but my husband is away, and I have go to pick up my son now and give him dinner..." And she was like, "Well, you need to lie down and rest. You do NOT want to have this baby now!" And I was like, "Uh, no; I really don't. REALLY don't."

BLERRRRRRGGGGHHHHH.
In my heart of hearts, I was pretty sure that nothing was wrong, but it sucks to feel like there *could* be something wrong and that it's hard to do what you need to do to make everything OK. Thankfully, yesterday, I happened to go to the MIT Coop to buy something totally random, and I saw this awesome "Find 100 trucks" book- it's like a "Where's Waldo" of trucks and has pages with TONS of different trucks by theme-- farm, construction, emergency, etc. I managed to sit on the couch with my feet up with Chickie, slug a Nalgene of water, and look at that book for 35 minutes! God bless the truck book...

By about 7, things started to get better. By that time, I had called my friend Emily who lives around the corner, and she had offered to come over and help me once her husband got home, but at that point, I knew I had only 45 minutes before Chickie would be in bed, and I knew I would feel better after that. I am SO lucky to have friends nearby who could help me, though!

I had to run around again to get Chickie in bed and clean up his dinner (can't have the mice problem come back-- gross) and get my own dinner, and by the time I sat down again around 8:15, I was cramping up again, and everything seemed a lot worse this time. Fuuuuuuuuuck. I actually skyped with Dan to talk to him about what I should do-- after all, since Chickie was in bed, if I needed to, I could pretty easily give the baby monitor to my downstairs neighbors and go in to the hospital to be evaluated. If I decided to go, though, I needed to go soon, because it would suck to go to the hospital and wait around and not come home til midnight, etc. So, I decided to just get the bottom of it, and I called the midwife on call. I should also say that the midwife whom I had seen earlier at the health center had actually left me a voicemail to see how I was doing and to tell me to call the midwife on call if something didn't feel right. I was pretty sure, though, that if I did call, the midwife on call would be like, "You should come in to be evaluated..."

So, I called, and interestingly, the midwife on call was like, "Oh, you're having Braxton Hicks. Just keep your feet up and drink, drink, drink."

Huh? Interesting. I had been so sure that she was going to want to evaluate me, but she seemed really sure that it was nothing to worry about. She pointed out that if I had actually been in labor, my contractions would have not gotten better around 7 when I had been sitting down and drinking for nearly an hour. When I pointed out that everything had gotten worse again, she was like, "Well, did you get up again?" Oh, yeah, I ran around the house for about half an hour. She was like, "Well, look, if you want to come in and you don't feel comfortable about what's going, by all means, come in, but I would just sit and drink and wait and watch it for an hour and see what happens. If nothing gets better, think about getting someone to watch your child and come in..."

Sure enough, she was right-- things got better by 9:15 or so. I did call my downstairs neighbor to tell her what happened and that if something got worse that I woudl need her to hold the baby monitor, and she was like, "Don't worry, I'll sleep with my phone next to me"-- Again, amazing to have people who can help!

The thing that I hate about all this (well, there are a couple things)-- is that I just feel like this shouldn't be happening. I know it's totally normal, especially since my body is still not 110% after the f-ing bronchitis, but I hate hate HATE feeling weak or incapable in any way. I do everything I can to be physically strong and healthy, and it's annoying and frustrating to feel like what I do is NOT enough and that I can't in fact do everything. I really don't think that being 26+ weeks pregnant and being alone with a 2 year old for 4 days and 4 nights should be too much to ask-- I really don't. I just hate it when my body decides to not cooperate! Freaking get with the program, will you??

So, at everyone's demand, I sent Chickie to daycare AGAIN today. I tell you, Center-based daycare is a wonderful thing, especially when the director and staff are laid-back. Yeah, that laid-back vibe can be really annoying at times, but it comes in handy on a day like today when they're like, "Oh, yeah, sure, bring him in-- no problem..." I do feel bad about sending him for the 4th day in a row (even though he'll be there only for like 6 hours and not 8.5 like usual), but really, having me rested is the best thing for everyone, including him. Emily asked if he was showing the effects of 3 straight days in daycare, and truthfully, it's hard to know-- Daddy is out of town, and it's been rainy and cold for 3 days, so he hasn't been able to go outside and is clearly grumpy as a result, so it's hard to isolate the variables. In fact, he'll get more action and stimulation at daycare on a rainy day than he would with me, so maybe it's for the best. I just feel bad that I can't be there for him in the way I want to be, but I guess I should get used to that since I will be making all sorts of compromises once This One comes, right?

So, that's the story. All's well that ends well, I suppose. Ultimately, not a big deal, but really, why the drama? At least next time, I'll know what it is and will hopefully be able to deal with it more easily...

Oh, and in other news, I passed the stupid glucose test. Phew! My co-worker has gestational diabetes, and it doesn't look like a picnic, honestly.