Holding pattern

I'm having one of those weeks where I feel like every day I'm Bill Murray in Groundhog Day.  I get up, I eat breakfast, I attempt to get work done, and I wait.  I sit on the couch vigilant of every single movement I feel from Half-pint, paranoid if I don't feel any movement for too long, paranoid at every twinge or slight cramp I feel.  "Is that a contraction?  Am I in labor?  Is she okay?  Should I call the doctor?"  Every day.  And I'll continue to do so every day until February 15th.  And I'm not going to lie....it's making me go crazy. 


I'm in a holding pattern, just waiting for the big day.  I'm scared to death that she could come earlier than planned.  I'm scared I'll go into labor while T is still at work, and I'll be alone when my water breaks or when I start having contractions.  I'm scared I won't recognize them when they happen and it'll be too late.  Nain is left alone with her thoughts, only to come up with the most ridiculous labor scenarios ever.


I'm happy that I'm working from home.  I don't do well being stuck in the house for too long like this, but in my mind I feel this is the best thing for her.  My stress level stays down, I get to rest and take care of myself, which has been especially important with this virus I seem to have caught.  But being alone and stuck in the house leaves me alone with my thoughts for far too long.  And that, my friends, is extremely dangerous. 


I know you moms out there are chuckling at me, because I'm sure you had the same worries before.  And I know, everyone keeps telling me that when I am, in fact, in labor...I'll just know.  And I'm sure I will.  Or it's possible I won't know what it feels like because she could be in there for the long haul until we arrive at the hospital next Wednesday for the surgery.  But that doesn't stop the worrying.


And even as I type this, I feel Half-pint moving around inside of me.  Right now she's pushing her foot into the side of my stomach, a move she's mastered quite well over the past few weeks.  Last night, I swear, I could actually feel a tiny heel when she was stretching.   It was right after I told T that I was worried that she wasn't moving enough.  A second later, she pushes her foot out, almost as if to say "See, Mommy, I'm still here.  Stop worrying."

Maybe I should listen to her....



So for now, I'm here.  Waiting.  In a holding pattern.