Pregnancy Fears

As we draw closer and closer to the big day, I've sort of been letting my imagination run a little too wild. My biggest fear is that I will be somewhere, all alone, in a very public place, and my water will break. I don't even go to the grocery store by myself anymore. My verbal excuse has been that I cannot lift heavy items like the giant packages of bottled water that we buy on a regular basis.

Jack has been a good sport to go with me and take care of the heavy lifting, but the real truth is that I have this recurring nightmare that I'm in Wal Mart, my cart packed full of refrigerated/frozen items, and my water breaks. Everyone around me thinks I've just wet my pants and they are all laughing hysterically at the fat girl who didn't make it to the bathroom in time.

You know, it's a fact that pregnant women often have trouble with incontinence. As my uterus swells from the size of an orange to the size of a giant watermelon and beyond, this leaves little room for my bladder, which is now the size of a small grape, to expand.

Watermelon

Grape

While I have not yet had to deal with this particular problem, it's not a stretch to assume that many people WOULD think I had just lost control of my bladder if my water really did break in the grocery store. I have worked up several emergency plans for when I go into labor, depending on the time and place. If it happens in Wal Mart, we'll just pretend like we're leaving the cart only for a second to go check the prices on kiwi (those are near the exit). I'll have Jack walk right behind me so no one can see my wet pants, and then we'll make a break for the door.


I've also revised my walking route. I now stay much closer to my house, instead of walking a half mile away before turning around. I also keep my cell phone with me at all times, just in case. This morning I stayed within a 2 block radius of our house, on a new route; this one much more shaded.


On a side note, I don't believe I've ever mentioned the daminator on here before. I almost ran through his sprinkler this morning; it was so hot! There is a man who lives 2 blocks from us who drives a large van with a vanity tag. It says dmmn8tr. Jack and I were trying to decide if the man builds dams for a living or if he's just a Baptist preacher. (No offense to my Baptist readers; if his plate had said "Snakethrower" or "Poisondrinker" I would have guessed nondenominational. I love Baptists.)


I go to the doctor today, and I must admit, I'm a little worried about my score. I haven't been on the scale in over a month, since my last visit was just a sonogram and we skipped the other doctor visit routines. Lately, I've been downing RBFs like it's my job. I realized that this addiction might be a problem earlier this week when I went to the kitchen for my 2 pm feeding. I had a mini panic attack after I found the root beer, but when I opened the freezer I realized I had nothing to float with it! I had to break my "no going to the grocery store alone" rule since Jack had finished off the ice cream over the weekend but hadn't bothered to tell me about it.


Not to worry though. I got a gallon of ice cream and made it home without my water breaking in the store.


As I was saying, I'm a little worried about my score. While I realize that I'm pregnant, and therefore I am supposed to gain weight, I think I might have overdone it slightly. After my last visit, when Doc said SB was a little small for her age and maybe I could eat a little more, I've been to extremes to consume all things edible within my reach.


So I think I might score a little too high today on the scales. SB is probably going to weigh 15 pounds by the time she gets here. Lord, help me.