False alarms

This has been a big week for false alarms. Both have to do with plumbing (of sorts.)

False alarm 1

On Wednesday, I arrived home to the deafening noise of a malfunctioning water pressurizer pump. This pump has been a mystery since we moved in; even our home inspector didn't know why we had it. Turned on or off, our water pressure was the same. So we left it on, content to let it run mysteriously. On Wednesday, it had other plans and went haywire.

I called Charles, and he agreed we should call a plumber. I did that, and the conversation went something like this:

Sara: "So there's this pump, and it's loud. I think it might blow up."
Plumber: "I've never heard of that. That will be $350, please."

Meanwhile, Charles arrived home to find a fire hydrant on our street open and gushing water. He checked with the neighbors, and their pump was malfunctioning, too. It turns out the city water pipes had blown a valve, and all of our houses were struggling to pull water from empty pipes; the air was causing the noise in the pumps. It was fixed several hours later.

Pregnancy and non-functioning toilets are a bad combination.

False alarm 2

Thursday morning's doctor's appointment was pretty fruitful. The doctor said I am progressing nicely, now 2-3 cm dilated and 60% effaced, and the baby's head is very low in my pelvis. She also said the swelling was more noticeable in my face, which is a sign of impending labor in her experience. (Also, I have a rash on my hands, which apparently is my liver's way of processing the high amount of estrogen in my system. Weird!) So she said maybe I'll make it to my next appointment, but maybe I'll deliver earlier. Yikes!

With this on my mind, Charles and I attended breastfeeding class last night, which was both inspiring and intimidating. Then we went home to catch the last half hour of the VP candidate debates, and Baby Berg decided to give me a workout. I had HUGE contractions and sharp pains for so long that we decided to time them - they were consistently 5-8 minutes apart and a minute or so in duration for long enough that we thought...maybe? Of course, our bags weren't packed, so we went upstairs, intermittently packing and timing contractions.

As soon as we finished packing, the contractions stopped completely. Oh.

Apparently Baby Berg just thought I needed a boost to get that last item crossed off the list.