Sometime in the dead of night on Friday, I was awoken from a surprisingly deep sleep because of a rustling on Meg’s side of the bed. I intentionally didn’t say “Meg’s half” of the bed, since her, her stomach, and her entourage of pillows now occupy closer to roughly 93% of the total surface area of our once comfortable bed.
By now, I’ve grown accustomed to the body-sized Boppy pillow that extends from between Meg’s knees, around the belly, and up close to her head. It’s actually a funny sight to watch her roll over with that thing in toe, since the combination of 9 month pregnant belly + pillow makes it look like a damn lunar eclipse is rolling in as she swings the entire production over her body to the other side.
The Boppy isn’t the only extra pillow gracing our bed these days. She’s collected every spare pillow in the house and moved them to the bedroom. Every time she lays down, she takes a solid few minutes of adjusting. She’ll cram a few pillows under her stomach, which actually makes sense; if she lies on her side, her stomach is left dangling a few inches above the bed and it just looks painful. Another few pillows go between her ankles and knees. She then grabs mine and uses that to help prop her head up.
Not that it does any good. Apparently, one of the side effects (that’s not the right word, but come with me on this one) of being pregnant is… well, she snores like a freaking beast. It seems pretty common, since most fathers that I’ve talked to give me the same form of condolences for being in the situation. I’m told it disappears pretty quickly after birth, which by my calculations is right in time for the baby to wake us up every 2 hours anyway.
Oh, and the biggest bitch of the entire pillow stuffing ritual is that she only makes it about an hour before having to get up and piss anyway, after which she has to repeat the entire process.
In light of all of this, it’s a surprise I was in bed in the first place to be woken up. I’ve spent the better portion of the last month sleeping on the couch, balling up my shirt to use as a pillow. Anyone feel bad for me yet? Didn’t think so, I’ll just move on.
I was woken up by the sounds of Meg in pain and deep breathing. Despite it being the middle of the night, it only took me about half a second to process the situation.
“AHHHHHH HOLY SHIT YOU’RE IN LABOR.”
I leaped out of bed and made for the light switch. Actually, it was more of a fall out of bed and a bear crawl over to the wall. As I turned back to Meg, my mind was racing.
I’ve often wondered how I’d handle myself in an emergency situation. Would I lose my mind, would I be calm and collected and get things done, or would I just pass out under the weight of it all? I’m not sure I fully have my answer, but I was a bit surprised to realize my very first thought was that if her water broke while she was in the bed, I could never sleep there again. Ever. Ew.
My fears were quickly put to ease. She wasn’t in labor. She had a leg cramp. Who the hell gets a leg cramp while laying completely still in bed? I chalk it up to a pregnancy thing and go back to bed.
Needless to say, I’m a little jumpy these days. Every time the phone rings — especially my cell phone if I’m out — I race to answer it. Technically speaking, as of this weekend the baby is at full term, so realistically any call could be Meg telling me to take her to the hospital. To a certain extent, it’s not warranted. After she has her first contraction, it’s like 8 hours before we even bother going to the hospital. Regardless, it’s going to be an interesting few weeks of overreacting for me.