Under Pressure

Last week I was walking out of lunch with David when the pressure down below suddenly got really strong. I discretely grabbed my "self" to ensure Abe didn't fall out and waddled quickly to the car. I sat down with a sigh of relief, though nervous that the pressure got so strong so quickly.
Later that same day, I was walking through the grocery store and had to find the nearest chair to sit down. The pressure was back and it felt like either I was delivering Abe or I was delivering my entire bladder in the deli. I took deep, cleansing breaths and relaxed my body as much as I could. When most of the pressure passed, I checked out and drove home.
I called my doctor who told me to go ahead and come in to get checked out. Simultaneously, another mom was going into labor and my midwife couldn't see me right away. I had to sit, half naked, on the big stirrup bed, waiting for her for half an hour. And while my worst nightmares were kept at bay in the hours leading to my doctor visit, sitting on that stirrup bed of death did something to my brain that left me helpless against the What If Monster. By the time my midwife arrived, I had already placed myself on mandatory, full-time bed rest to include only water, chicken, and olive oil. I could not laugh, cry, or talk on the phone and my c-section date was already set. And Abe would be in the NICU for 6 weeks, though I hadn't quite finished determining what for yet when she walked in.
With absolutely no modesty, my midwife "checked" me and said, "Your cervix is so high I almost can't reach it and it's completely closed, so you have nothing to worry about. You're probably feeling the weight of your body starting to give gravity the upper-hand. Maybe a bladder contraction or two, depending on where he's lying. But you're both fine. You just need to stay off your feet during the day as much as possible. It's the end of the pregnancy, it's going to be uncomfortable."
What? No bed rest? No c-section? Abe's fine?! Not that I'm disappointed but come on, this seemed a lot worse than just a little GRAVITY. So, I'm working on staying off my feet and stretching out far enough that there's not room on the couch for the What If Monster to join me. Occasionally he slips onto on open cushion when I get up for a sugar-free snack, but 90% of the time I kick him off before I start crying and calling family to find out what date in August is best for the planned c-section.