On the bright side, I suddenly have a lot of free time. Sadly, I can’t spend it doing exactly what I please. Instead, I’ve become an unwilling lady of leisure, as I’m officially on semi-bed rest at 37 weeks. Obviously, this was not part of my master plan.

Last Friday, at my 36-week appointment, my belly measured at 33 weeks. Up until that point, my measurements were right on, so my OB was concerned with the change. Because it was 5:00 PM by the time we left her office, we had to wait until Monday morning for a sonogram (so much for our one sonogram plan).  I. Suck. At. Waiting. Luckily, for the first time ever, Google was actually reassuring. With the help of the Internet, I easily convinced myself that the measurements were off because I was dehydrated, or something equally benign. Unfortunately, this time around, Dr. Google failed me.

The results of the sonogram showed that almost everything was perfect: my placenta, cervix, and amniotic fluid were all well within reasonable limits, and the baby’s size, based on averaged measurements, was spot on. The one discrepancy? The baby’s abdomen was measuring almost two weeks smaller than the other body parts, most significantly the head.

Apparently, when the baby isn’t get adequate “energy,” some body parts stop growing in order to ensure that the brain gets everything it needs. The discrepancy in head/abdomen size suggested that the baby wasn’t getting enough good stuff to grow. Since everything else was fine, the doctor thinks I was using up too much of the energy, and not leaving enough for the baby (this time around, I haven’t allowed myself to Google a single thing, so my scientific explanation might be a little off – I’m not sure how much I actually absorbed, as I was consumed with worry while listening to the doctor).

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Luckily, the discrepancy in size is still a couple days away from being an “official” problem, but it’s borderline. My OB’s first reaction was to pull me completely from work and insist on bed rest so I could reserve more of my energy for the baby. She must have seen the panicked expression on my face, because she reconsidered and decided that in order to preserve my sanity, I could work half days. Now, instead of working 6:30 to 3:30 or 4:00, I’m working 7:30 to 11:30.

Because I get to work half days, I have to spend the rest of the time at home on the couch. That means no cooking, cleaning, laundry, exercise, etc. She said I was allowed to heat-up leftovers, and I could take a 15-minute walk on the weekends, but that was it.

At the appointment, Mr. Tricycle took copious notes and asked a ton of questions, and since then, he’s become The Enforcer. As much as I hate to admit it, I really need someone to force me to follow the rules. It’s been VERY hard for me to adapt to life on the couch, mostly because I still feel great. I enjoy a lazy day as much as the next person, but most of the time I like being busy. To-do lists are my best friend, and I get so much satisfaction from getting things done. Also, taking care of Mr. Tricycle (I’m totally an “Acts of Service” person via The Five Love Languages) is my main avenue for expressing love. Now that I’m banned from making his morning coffee, leaving love notes in his lunch box, making dinner, washing workout clothes, etc., I’m kind of feeling at a loss.

My living room campsite, as set-up by Mr. Tricycle. Luckily the dogs are great company.

Mr. Tricycle has been AMAZING, and has totally picked up all the loose ends. He’s making dinner, cleaning the house, and taking care of almost everything I typically do. He insisted on making up the pull-out bed in the living room and checks in every day at lunch to make sure I’m no longer vertical. He even called my best friend at work to make sure I was sitting down while teaching. I jokingly call him my jailer, but it’s a good thing I have him around to remind me what’s important right now.

The dogs are really happy to have me home every afternoon, and they both dig bed rest in a big way. I’m able to do lots of planning and work on projects for school, and I am catching up on all the trashy TV I’ve got DVR’ed. With all this free time, I might even make the Hellobee leader board – watch out @Chopsuey119 – think I can go from Kiwi to Wonderful Pumpkin on 3 weeks of bed rest?

Even though I’ve had to kiss most of my pre-baby to-do list goodbye, I’m quickly coming to terms with the new normal, at least for the next three or four weeks.

Did you do bed rest? Do you have any survival tips for me?