The first few days of bed rest were blissful. I slept, caught up on my engineering finals, and indulged in endless hours of television. By the fourth day, however, paradise had curdled into a kind of purgatory. This early bed rest offered an unsettling glimpse into my potential eight-month-pregnant future, and it sucked. The enforced inactivity also gave birth to a torrent of endless thoughts, a relentless mental current that threatened to pull me under.
I attempted, unsuccessfully, to convince my brothers and dad to allow me a trip downstairs to the theater room. "Bed rest means bed rest," they declared, their voices firm. It wasn't entirely unbearable; they brought me meals, kept me company, and we got to know each other better. Still, the confinement was starting to wear on me; restles
