Day 19

Day 19 of maternity leave. Well, technically, it's still 'sick leave,' since my mat leave will not kick in until April 12th as the result of a bureaucratic screw-up at work. (Boy, do I love HR folk. It amazes me that administrative-type employees who a) hate people and b) hate their jobs somehow always end up working in 'human' resources. Do employers not screen for friendliness, professionalism and the ability to communicate and interact with other human beings when filling these positions?) Tangent aside, Day 19 is upon me and I find I have been attacked by a severe case of insomnia.

I can't fall asleep at night, I can't nap during the day and now I can't stay asleep past 5:00 a.m. Perhaps this is my body's way of readying me for a new round of sleepless baby-filled nights? Or is it just as my Hubby assumes and now that I am caught up on three weeks sleep, I am better rested to handle all the day has to offer. Hmmmm....

On another pregnancy-related note, I am now a possible carrier for Strep B--some sort of virus that although does not affect the mother in any way, shape or form, can be potentially dangerous for the baby when giving birth. (Consolation resides in the fact that it is only 1% of children who catch this virus while undergoing delivery, even though 30% of women test positive for carrying the virus.)

What does this mean exactly? I have to be hooked up to some antibiotics during the labour in order to vanquish the virus before it has a chance to take hold (should it ever take hold). In other words, as soon as my membranes break or I start having regular contractions, I am to get to the hospital ASAP in order to get as much antibiotics into me as they can during the labour, which the good-natured doctors believe will be much shorter this time around than with B.

Naturally, I live 45 minutes away from the hospital, which is still another 30 minutes from my husband's work downtown. That puts me at over an hour away from the meds if I start labour during the workday--and even longer if it happens during traffic hours. Yes, I have done the math. Yes, the bags are packed by the door. Yes, my Hubby wears his Blackberry at all times, waiting for the inevitable phone call that says "Get the hell home!"