I was 9 months pregnant, and besides being insanely uncomfortable, I was also in the midst of the absent-minded last few weeks of my pregnancy.
That night, I went to bed early. I took my contacts out and put on my horribly “out-of-date prescription” glasses. As I laid down and tried to uncomfortably shift my XXL belly into a somewhat decent position. My gaze turned to the small hexagon window in my bathroom.
I see an amber colored object. I squint through my cracked and blurry frames to try and see what exactly it is.
You see, I live in a city surrounded by mountains. So to see an orange light coming through my window could only mean one thing. A fire.
I run to my husband, who’s in the spare room working on his computer, and tell him to look outside. He looks at me with suspicion. (And probably rolling his eyes in his mind.) He looks out the window. He acknowledges there’s something glowing. But he tells me not to worry about it. And because it’s far enough away, it shouldn’t concern us.
So I tell him, I’m not comfortable thinking there’s a fire on the mountains where people live and I’m not doing anything about it. So I waddle downstairs to get a better look through my kitchen windows.
I once again see it and this time, it looks bigger. So I convince myself, I need to be a hero to my neighbors. They’ll dedicate a day to me for saving the lives of thousands of people. Maybe they’ll even replace Ben Franklin’s face on the hundred dollar bill with mine?
So I grab my phone and dial 911. I report to the dispatcher that there’s a fire on the mountains about 3 or 4 miles from my house. She asks for my address so a firetruck could come see it and be able to get an idea where it is.
I get off the phone and tell my husband that I called 911 and he’s married to a National Hero. He gets upset that I didn’t tell him I was going to call beforehand. And as I’m trying to explain to him that they’re going to give me the key to the city for saving so many lives, I glance out the window to point at the blaze and stop talking.
I squint again, cock my head to the side and finally see it.
The Harvest Moon.
For those of you who are unfamiliar, the harvest moon is when the moon appears massive and rises at sunset giving it an orange glow Since I live around mountains, the moon rises behind them. So it can make it look like the ridge of the mountain is on fire.
So in utter disbelief and drowning in embarrassment, I panic and call 911 again to try and explain to them they don’t need to send the firetruck and that it was only the moon.
“Thank you for calling back, but the firetruck will still be coming by to verify there’s no fire.”
My heart drops and I feel like I’m going to pee, throw-up and pass out all at the same time. I tell my husband, who is still laughing at my disaster, and I beg him to deal with them when they get here.
Being the loving husband that he is, he agrees. As I see the truck pulling up to our home, I lay my giant self on the couch to try and hide. I hear him explain that his wife is 9 months pregnant and hasn’t been herself lately and was very sorry. Luckily, one of the fireman had just had a baby and totally understood how pregnancy-brain can affect women.
So long story short, I cost the city I live in tax dollars, lost more of my dignity and gave my husband a story to make fun of me with for years to come.
Pregnancy: When being uncomfortable and feeling like hell isn’t enough, let’s add stupidity to it as well.
Thanks Mother Nature.