Feelin hot hot hot
It has been ridiculously cold in Connecticut for almost a week. Long underwear cold. Ski mask cold. My brand new winter coat is totally ineffective cold. If you have any of that global warming lying around, could you send it this way? As my friend Sarrible said, Connecticut is the state where Al Gore dares not tread.
Since it was only in the 20’s outside, I caved in and raised the temperature on the thermostat from the oil-and-cost-saving 60 degrees to the slightly-more-expensive-but-less-likely-to-cause-frostbite 65. There was absolutely no noticeable difference on the first floor. My second floor appears to have moved to the surface of the sun, although I don’t remember walking up any extra stairs. We have to keep the bedroom doors closed (due to my little cat’s absolute burning hatred of E and her desire to urinate on anything he touches) so the heat that should be traveling into the hallway and empty nursery gets trapped in just two rooms. Our new furnace thinks this is hilarious, and continues to pump out heat like it’s life depends on it.
On Saturday night I woke up at 4 am because I thought I was dying. Literally, dying. I once had a fever of 104 that landed me in the emergency room. That felt like a cool fall breeze compared to Saturday night. I lay on the floor of the bathroom for a while as the baby rejected the cookies I had eaten before bed and kicked me over and over in the diaphragm to protest the uncomfortable temperature. Eventually I cooled down enough that the room stopped spinning and I made it downstairs to sleep on the couch. I’ve used the phrase “bun in the oven” for being pregnant but this is the first time I actually thought I might cook my baby. Pregnancy makes you kind of warm anyways, but baby-warmth combined with a suddenly incredibly efficient furnace and five degrees on the thermostat was like the ultimate trifecta of hot.
Just in case you were worried I might actually have damaged my baby, when I took my temperature while lying on the floor panting, it read a slightly low but normal for me 97.2.
Ack I’m sorry that sounds kind of scary-I’ve sat in the bathroom just waiting to barf, and it is never ever fun, but I have rarely thought I was dying from it. I hope the pre-natal oven turns itself down. And I’m glad you aren’t pregnant in the middle of summer, because yowza.
I know how miserable a fever is (I tend to cry with a really bad one, because instead of having a baby, I am a baby), so I can only imagine what that must’ve been like.
Also, my cat hates my boyfriend, but instead of peeing on his stuff, he comes in and bangs on the blinds to keep us awake. Thus, he has to be shut up in the front part of the house.
@DottyZ: You should write more about Bojangles, he’s such a cutie!
Bebe I can’t begin to imagine how cranky I would be if incubating AND overheated. I’m an evil, head-snappin bitch if uncomfortably warm in everyday life. I would have to placed in solitary confinement or shipped to Antartica if I had a baby under production. I feel so bad for you!!