I dropped Dave off at the airport yesterday afternoon. I hadn’t realized that he was flying out on Sunday so he could be there bright and early on Monday morning. I guess it’s logical. But it means he’ll actually be gone for five nights rather than four. FIVE! It all equals doom, I tell you!
And of course, as soon as I got home from the trip to the airport, I managed to have a total freak-out session. I had crawled back in bed when I got home (part of my self-imposed bedrest; which is not so much my idea, but more of a necessity because I don’t do too well when I’m out of bed for more than two hours at a time). While I was lying down, I got a weird feeling that was sort of like menstrual cramps. Hmmm. Seems like I’ve read this symptom before, yes? Oh wait, that’s right: every single freakin’ pregnancy book under the freakin’ sun describes early labor as feeling like menstrual cramps. Heck, even my cousin described it like that. And at that precise moment, Dave was probably on a plane somewhere over Oregon. Do I have phenomenal timing or what?
(Note: I’ve been having Braxton-Hicks contractions like crazy for the past few days. This was noticeably different, believe me.)
Just to be safe, I checked the clock next to the bed. It was 2:58 p.m. The cramp-like feeling passed after about a minute. I had the same crampy feeling again 12 minutes later, at 3:10. Then… nothing. Na-da. Lots of baby kicks and dancing, and my hips still ached and I had weird shooting pains down my inner thighs, which is basically what the past couple of weeks have been like for me. But no more crampy contraction things. So ok, that’s good. As much as I would like to get this kid out of me, I would definitely prefer that it happen when Dave is around.
Later that afternoon, my cat Teenie managed to totally freak me out too. When I’m in bed, she generally wants to cuddle up near me, but then she goes to sleep. Her favorite spot is in the little nook between my pillow & Dave’s; I suppose it’s an ideal location to be petted by two people rather than just one. But she’s an old lady cat (she’ll be eleven this year!), so she doesn’t have the super playful kitten energy anymore. Once she’s settled, she’s out. She might occasionally wake up to give herself a bath, or to go get some food. When she comes back to bed, she’ll usually purr for a minute or so while she gets herself re-settled, but that’s about it.
But no. Yesterday? She stood next to me, totally staring at me for a very long time (like 20-30 minutes), purring very loudly at me, and she’d occasionally lift one paw and sort of rest it on my arm. As totally bizarre and out-of-character as the little paw-pat was (like she was trying to reassure or comfort me), it was actually the staring that freaked me out more than anything. She was boring her eyes into me like that little terrier Eddie did to Frasier. It was creepy. I felt like she was trying to tell me something. It seemed as though I was on an old episode of “Lassie”. What is it, girl? Is Timmy stuck down in the well? Do I need to call my ob/gyn?
It was totally bizarre. My mom says she thinks animals pick up on “those types of things” (whatever that means), so maybe she was giving me a sign that I’m going to go into labor sometime this week. I’m not kidding, that’s totally my mom’s theory. Nevermind any of the symptoms I’ve told her about, it was only when I told her the story about the cat that she was all, “Well, that seals it. I guess I need to start keeping the phone ringer turned on when I go to bed, just in case you need to call at 4 a.m. to tell me that I have a grandbaby.”
Although you know, assuming my labor takes long enough for Dave to fly home, the idea of having the baby this week is quite honestly fine with me. I’m not anywhere near being done with my to-do list, but seriously? I am so over this whole pregnancy thing.
So please, send me happy “dilation and effacement” vibes for my OB appointment this afternoon. I’ll update again when I know more.