Wide awake

Week 37, Day 5

It’s 3:15 on the morning of Friday, February 4, and I have been awake for two hours trying not to worry about the coincident timing of snow that is becoming an ice storm and what feels very much like a slow leak from the Little Dude region.

Paragraph to skip if you’re queasy about TMI: It’s a sweet, straw-smelling kind of leak, not like the pee that has been an issue with coughs and sneezes. And there are different kinds of twinge-y feelings involved, though I couldn’t be pressed into saying the word “contraction.” I do have that regularly scheduled appointment with Dr. Binka-Binka at 9 a.m., but now that we are having a winter storm event instead of a light snowfall, I’m getting concerned about whether anyone will be there if we risk life and limb to maneuver down off the big hill we live on. (Darn those whistling-past-the-graveyard jokes I’ve made this week about being iced in up here and going into labor!)

Everything I’ve been reading tonight — and yes, that does mean more mid-night Googling, never the best idea, but backed up with mid-night paging through the indexes of nearly a dozen pregnancy books — indicates worry is not in order but telling a medical professional is. But what will they do at 3:19 in the morning in the middle of an ice storm? What advice could they possibly give? Monitor the situation and call us in the morning? Get in the car now and hope the much-vaunted off-road capabilities of the Land Rover aren’t just a bunch of marketing hoo-hah?

I’ve packed half a bag (the half I could pack without waking up Michael) and have my suitcase ready for the other half in the morning or whenever everything needs to be thrown into it on the way out the door. I’ve practiced deep calming breaths, and had some water, and written three more thank-you notes. I’ve even tried going back to bed and lying there doing relaxation exercises, but then I just feel this maybe-leak a little more, whether I really do or not, and I hear the ice clicking against the bedroom window, and relaxation is not the end result.

Here’s hoping I look at this again in a few hours from a more balanced and calmer perspective and chuckle over the Old Pregnant Lady Giving In To Mid-Night Anxiety. I haven’t freaked out much over the last 38 weeks, so maybe this entry will get it out of my system.

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