Too Fat to Dance...

So I wrote once, a few months ago, about how I'm too fat to dance. But last night I learned this is, in actuality, totally true. We went to a Valentine's dance with our friends Dave and Brittney, held at their stake house. I was rather surprised Trevor wanted to go to a dance at all, since I think the last time we went to one and danced at it was before we were actually dating! I walk in, and of course, the same thing happened to me that ALWAYS happens to me when I go to dances,ever since I was about 15 years old. The music fills me, and my brain clicks, and I register something like: "This is a swing!" and then my next thought is, "If only I had someone to dance with!" Because, of course, Trevor doesn't dance.

He told me once that "Rees men don't dance" and I told him that was stupid. He promised me he'd learn one day. We even bought him ballroom shoes last year. But any attempts to actually teach him anything have gone awry, except for one night when we were dating and he still cared about impressing me, when he let me teach him cha-cha for about five minutes. So the music is going, and I want to DANCE. I see people out on the floor, all of them married of course, and here and there are a few men who actually are dancing the triple swing. I consider poaching them, despite both of our married status, and despite the fact that I am 35 1/2 weeks pregnant.

We go out on the floor and talk to some friends of ours that we haven't seen since our wedding. And HE looks like he can dance. I tell Trevor I'm going to dance with him, and he says I shouldn't. And I say I'm fine! So we go talk to them, and another swing comes on--a really, really good one! Usually I can never enjoy dances until I've gotten at least one dance "ouf of my system" and then I don't mind so much that I'm not dancing. So I promptly poach this woman's husband. She was a totally good sport about it. Trevor had already made his way to the punch bowl and refreshments, so he wasn't there to stop me.

I never had much stamina. Even when I was a size 8 and 18. So we dance for about two minutes, maybe less, and I decide that's enough for me. And I didn't mind not dancing the rest of the night. Though I did TRY a deacon shuffle with Trevor, but it was hard because my belly was too big between us and I had to bend over awkwardly. Come to think of it, that's probably why my back hurts so bad today...And, to give Trevor credit, he DID cha-cha with me for about twenty seconds, until I tried to make him do an open break and he freaked out and stopped. At the end of the dance they played the last song, "Pretty Woman." We were walking out the door, but Trevor started singing along as we left. Only he changed the words:

Pregnant woman, walking next to me
Pregnant woman, carryin' my baby...

I wish I remembered the rest of the words because it was hilarous. He did a whole verse on the spot!

After the dance Dave and Brittney came to our house and we talked and laughed for a few hours and then they went home. I had noticed I was a little sore, but when I laid down for bed, I realized I was REALLY sore, and I was REALLY hurting, and I coudn't remember if Afton had moved at all ever since we danced. And Trevor said, "Well, you really were bouncing her around in there." And then I felt this stab in my heart. I realized that I had only thought of myself when i danced. I thought that I could handle it. I didn't think about if the baby could handle it. What if I had jounced her around and damaged her? This far along in the pregnancy, isn't that possible? Can you imagine the guilt, if I had hurt her? Especially after Trevor had specifically asked me not to? To give him credit, he didn't chastise me as he easily could have, but I could see he was worried. I refused to panic. But she wasn't moving, and I didn't want to take any chances.

After a phone call to the nurse on call, we ended up going to the hospital at 1:00 a.m. And she's FINE. She started moving a little on our way there, so I knew she was ok, but I wanted to make sure she wasn't under stress, and that I hadn't hurt myself either. I was in a lot of pain at this point. Well, not a lot, but in pain. But everything checked out. I was deydrated and they made me drink 32 ounces of water, and we had to sit there forever listening to her heartbeat (which I loved) and watching the little heartbeat monitor thing. Apparently I was having contractions that I just couldn't feel, and aparently this is normal. Huh. Anyway, we're ok. And it DID give us an iron-clad excuse to miss church this morning. I am still incredibly stiff, and so sore that I hardly slept at all. Trevor? He's still sleeping and it's 11:00 a.m. You'd think HE was the one that was too fat too dance...