Movement?? And Other Craziness...

First, about the movement. I can't say with 100 percent confidence, but I think I might have felt it for the first time last night. Either that, or I have been hoping for it so hard that my mind has resorted to manufacturing the feeling.

It wasn't really a fluttering, more like a foot or hand (I'm guessing) very softly bumping up against the wall of my uterus repeatedly. It's kind of hard to describe. I wouldn't call it a tapping feeling, either. It happened when we were laying in bed before turning the lights off, so after I finish this post I'll go upstairs and see if it happens again tonight. (I know it doesn't always happen every day in the beginning.)

The other craziness...

Remember when I was feeling restless while on bedrest and decided to set up an exercise program for R? Yeah, well, that didn't go so well. He did it sporadically a few times, and then that was it.

So, after hearing a couple of my friends rave about an exercise program called crossfit that's gaining popularity, I got the bright idea that he should try it.

I found a crossfit gym that is literally two blocks from his office. I called to inquire about price and whether it's something someone who is not in shape can do. Yes, absolutely, each participant works at their own level, I was told. They offer to let people come in and try out one session for free to see if it's something they want to commit to.

I prodded R into attending, which he did reluctantly on Saturday morning.

About the time the class was ending, I got a phone call. He sounded tired and annoyed more than anything, so I knew he was ultimately okay, but the words "doctor" and "fracture" and "wrist" came up. Thankfully, he didn't actually break his wrist - after spending several hours at urgent care, it was determined to be a sprain, and he's now wearing a splint.

Since he called me at the end of class, I figured he'd hurt it around then. But it turns out he actually injured it during the first drill, which involved running forward 25 meters, running backward 25 meters for a total of 250 meters. During his second backward run, he leaned his body too far back and fell. He twisted around to try to catch himself, which is when he landed on his wrist. Still, he continued to press on through the rest of the session.

To add insult to injury, he was the oldest participant there, and it was the day before his birthday.

Apparently my attempts to get him into better shape are actually dangerous to his health. Maybe someday I'll also tell you about the time I set him up on a man-date with another tennis player and he came home with bloody feet as a result.

And yet more craziness...

Work has not been a super happy place since layoffs were done several months ago. Due to the manager I wound up reporting to, I've been spared most of the pain, but 20-25% of the folks in my department who were not laid off have since left, and I know another 15% or so are actively looking. Meanwhile, more and more work continues to be added, and it's not like we were light on work to begin with.

So with all of these people leaving or looking around, it's kind of become contagious. I searched online, and I found a position that sounds like it would be a great fit. The scope of work is narrower (i.e. more reasonable) that what I'm trying to juggle now, and it would be a significant salary boost. I meet all of the qualifications.

Except that FMLA only applies if you've been with a company for 12 months or more, and obviously Kiddo's going to come out before then.

Still, I think I'm going to apply for it and just see what happens. (Don't worry, I happened to have a therapy appointment this week, so I talked it through with her before deciding this.)

Maybe I won't even be called for an interview. But if I do happen to make it to the point of a job offer and they can't give me a written guarantee that they would keep the job for me while I'm out, or if any complications arise with the pregnancy between now and then, I can always politely decline.