Vacation is over, and panic sets in

I'm back from my "spring break", and it was a lovely, relaxing, and fun trip. (Well, except for the emotional/hormonal meltdown I had in a very public place the last day. Fortunately, it passed quickly. Boy, these pregnancy hormones are sure fun! Mr. Jane should be sainted when this is over, by the way.) It was the perfect March escape, and the weather largely cooperated. We have a number of friends in the area we visited, and we got to spend time with a number of them. And, as a bonus, we found a fabulous vegetarian restaurant---the best meal I've had in a very long time.

Now we're back, and I'm panicking over really stupid things. Mainly I'm panicking because I'm convinced that I'm going to go into labor ANY MINUTE NOW and there are still things that need to get done, like finishing the nursery (and clearing out all of the crap that's accumulated there) and finding a pediatrician and organizing all of the closets in the house, as well as organizing the garage and....

Let's stop to note a few things first:
1. The chances that I will actually go into labor at this point are quite small. We're talking tiny.
2. Even if I did go into labor at this point, Baby Jane would certainly not be coming home with us, so the nursery not being complete is a non-issue (and, needless to say, the least of our worries).
3. Organizing the closets/garage/junk drawer is really low priority in the grand scheme of things. Nice, maybe, but totally not necessary.

Intellectually, I realize all of this, but emotionally, I just keep thinking "ack! I'm not ready for this yet! I need more time!" (See reference to pregnancy hormones above.) Is this what they call "the nesting instinct"? Because if so, nesting sucks!

I had a dream last night that I was sitting in a house with a whole bunch of family and friends, just hanging out. I happened to look out the window just in time to see a huge tornado headed directly towards the house. I started screaming for everyone to go downstairs to the basement. I was the only one who went downstairs; everyone else stayed upstairs as it hit (in fact, no one else seemed the least bit fazed). There were two cats in the next room, and I ran to get them and then ran down to the basement with them, throwing myself over them to protect them just as the tornado hit....and that's when I woke up. I've never had a dream whose meaning was so clear to me, and such a perfect reflection of what I've been feeling lately.

Luckily, I realize how foolish I'm being here, and I'm being proactive about it. I spent some time (the time I meant to spend revising an article....oh well) setting up consultations with a few pediatricians over the next couple of weeks. I confessed all of this silliness to Mr. Jane and found out that he is also panicking as well, so now we can feel silly and panicked together. And I keep reminding myself that we have plenty of time to get everything done, and that everything will get done. And if not...well, in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn't matter.