Could I be getting used to this?

As I enter my 17th week on bedrest, I find myself having less and less bedrest-related tantrums. Usually, I would break down at least once a week, cry, rage and make my poor little hubby's life absolutely unbearable for a whole evening. Imagine a grown woman having the same tantrums as a 2 year old, but horizontally. Yep, that's what I look like during these "episodes".

Nothing incredible happened this week so I'm puzzled as to how zen has overtaken my life on bedrest. Maybe it's because I've spent a whole week being nearly contractions-free (oh wait, did I jinx it now??). Or maybe it's because I'll be 31 weeks tomorrow and that brings me a whole week closer to the Holy Grail of Pregnancy: 34 weeks. At 8 1/2 months, I can deliver at a regular hospital, not one that has a neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) and the Bean would not suffer from long-term health damages nor stay for more than a week or so in the hospital. Getting me there is Dr. G's ultimate goal. Any week further is pure bonus, according to him. And since the Bean has already gotten the steroid shots to mature the lungs, all is well in High-Risk Pregnancy Land.

Getting back to my new found state of zen. Could it be that I've be institutionalized?? Did bedrest break my natural rebelliousness? I'm very ashamed to admit it, but I'm starting to feel quite comfy on this bed. Being vertical brings all kind of aches and pains that - I am told - are common to the 3rd trimester of pregnancy. My back hurts too much, my feet swell and I waddle. Yes, waddling hurts. Well, it hurts my pride. I have turned into a sea elephant that's quite happy to lounge on the beach (couch) all day. I don't even know what I would do if I were suddenly taken off bedrest. Which I'm not even sure is going to happen anytime soon. When I asked my beloved Dr. G. about it, he wiggled his head in pure Bollywood style like only Indians can do and said "maybe". Hmm...what should I make of this? Is it maybe yes or maybe no?

Not that I really care anymore. All I would like is to be allowed to sit behind my sewing machine a few hours a day. Oh, and to go shopping for baby stuff. And a nice cup of (decaf) coffee with my girlfriends wouldn't hurt either! But as soon as I set foot on the ground, all these fantasies go out the door as I am painfully reminded of my huge and clumsy body. So it's back to the couch. Aaaah, that feels good...!