At night, John and I usually put all of our cats outside. Our cats are like roosters. At 5:30 am, when the sun starts shining in the morning sky, the cats will start meowing. Without fail, they always wake Porgie up. This is just completely unacceptable. So, the cats go outside before we go to bed, and they come in after Porgie gets up in the morning.
John usually catches all of the cats. But as I mentioned yesterday, John has thrown is back out. So, being the sweet wife that I am, I decided to catch the cats last night. Pudgey gets to stay inside due to her recent asthma attack, so I had to catch the three other cats. I caught the first two with ease. The third cat ran down the basement stairs. I went to follow him down the stairs, but I didn't make it very far. After walking down about two steps, I slipped and fell down about 6 more steps before I finally managed to stop myself from tumbling down the entire flight of stairs.
All of this happened about twenty minutes before bedtime. Of course, I was racked with fear. And of course, John promptly went to bed, with nary a worry. I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn't. I got up and posted about the incident. Then I googled "falling down stairs while pregnant" and got myself worked up into a frenzy.
Around midnight, I finally fell asleep.
When I woke up this morning, I did feel a few faint movements. Throughout the day, I have felt more distinctive and strong movements. But because I am insane, I have been analyzing each movement and worrying that little Izzy has been less active than usual. I know that I am being neurotic. If my doctor's office was open on Sundays, I would definitely go in to be checked out. Because I have felt Izzy move, I feel like going to the hospital is ridiculous.
Sorry it took me so long to update. Between my broken husband, my fussy little girl, and my insane fears, I didn't have much time to post today.