I'll skip the biology. The baby is fine. I'm fine. But after a few hours in a hospital yesterday the doctors told me to restrict my activity for 24 hours and come back to the office for a check up.
You'd think that would be easy. Rest. Take a break. Sit down. Watch a movie (or 6). Read a book. But the second someone tells me I have to do something, is when I don't want to do it!!! I'm telling you, the laundry basket is laughing at me. The dishwasher is repeating my name. And the pile of toys in the living room is creeping around the floor on its own power.
In other (unrelated) news: I found a new shrink! Nothing was wrong with the old one, but I wanted to make sure that with all the baby stuff, I had a female therapist on stand-by. And now I do! The threats Stephan made that encouraged me to do the research and schedule the appointment were creative and emphatic. So don't think I did all that on my own. Most things around here are a team effort lately.