A bad morning

I had some of my worst nightmares in recent memory last night. They were horrible. I don't even want to go into the details.

As I'm trying to write this, one of our three cats, Hobbes, is whining and meowing and clamoring for attention. Jumping on my lap, jumping off my lap. Rubbing up against me over and over again. Pet me! Love me! Pay attention to me!

We toured a birthing center at a hospital in Davis yesterday. It's quite far from our house, but we went there because they allow midwives and doulas, can provide water birth, and encourage natural childbirth. But it still felt very much like a hospital. We both thought it was okay - there were things we liked and things we didn't like - but my wife definitely prefers the very small, independent birthing center that's close to our house. Even though I didn't like the midwife there very much and they are not in our insurance's network, I agree that the environment was much nicer. It felt like someone's house. In fact I think it probably *is* someone's house. Friends of ours had their baby there a few months ago and they raved about it.

My wife woke up this morning at 4:30 a.m. needing to pee, then she was eating some apple slices that we left by her bed last night. I could tell she was trying really, really hard to chew quietly and not keep me awake. I was in a sleep fog and everything seemed to move in super slow motion. Each chew seemed like it took five thousand days. Little tiny chews, like a mouse nibbling a lettuce leaf.

Now I'm going to go bring her "a big bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats," which was the order she placed last night.

Hobbes finally settled down. He's all stretched out, big fluffy tummy up in the air, tail gently flicking around. All of our cats have been edgy lately; sometimes I wonder if they know something big is coming.