Still pregnant. My waters are intact. The house, however, decided to pick up my slack. Ian had gone with friends and family to the Preds game last night. I stayed home to rest after a rather rough day. At around 9:30 PM, I was sitting at my computer in the front bedroom listening to music and piddling around, when a great whizzing, gushing noise emanated from the hall. I freaked out because it sounded like one of two things:
A) The main gas pipe ruptured. Or,
B) “Someone” in the house turned on the main level bathroom shower.
As I was trying to decide whether to investigate or run to the front door like cheetah on fire, I noticed a little spray of water coming out into the hall. I peaked into the front bathroom and was greeted with geysers of water rivaling anything in Yellowstone erupting from the wall behind the sink. Water was shooting into the bathtub, up onto the window, over the toilet, and straight out from the sink. It would have been an absolutely hilarious scene if it had been in one of those “Are you ready?” home insurance commercials. As it was in my home, not so much.
By this time, I had Ian on the phone. I called him the instant I had first heard the noise to make sure that I told him I loved him before I:
A) was blown to bits. Or,
B) was hacked to death by a psychopath.
Yeah, I know. Utterly rational. Instead of “I love you”, the first words I said were “Ian, I think the bathroom exploded”. Needless to say, I was not handling the situation well. With him on the phone, I stepped into the spray and attempted to see if turning off the water at the sink would make any difference. The only difference it made was turning a dry, pregnant woman into a soaked, pregnant woman. A soaked, rather panicky, pregnant woman.
Ian then said I would need to turn off the main water to the house. To do so, I would have to find heavy duty pliers because we don’t have one of those oh-so-useful water keys. I scrambled to the basement to discover water pouring in sheets from the ceiling above… directly into the tool box. Sigh. Getting another good soaking in the process, I found what I needed and headed for the street. I snagged the flashlight on the way out so I could maybe see what the heck I was supposed to do.
Meanwhile Ian was frantically trying to figure out how to get home as quickly as possible. He had ridden with his Mom, Amy, and Garrett. He was sitting with Ben and Dru. The game was tied and heading into overtime. Thankfully, his friend Eric had driven up alone and was sitting fairly near to him. After explaining the situation, Eric tossed him his keys and Ian proceeded to run about 3 blocks to Eric’s truck and then book it home. Ian’s family actually noticed him running out of the stadium madman-style and thought I had gone into labor. They were then reassured that I was fine, but our house was rapidly turning into a water park.
At this point, I am in the street, dripping wet, and frantically searching for the water main. I find it. I cannot open it. Not even half an inch. I eventually wedge it open only to discover that even with my arms stretched as far as possible, there is no way I’m going to reach the valve (which, incidentally, is also covered in about 1/2 a foot of water). By this time, one of our awesome neighbors, Jerry, is helping me out. He thinks that our other neighbors, Terri and Merri (sisters) have a key. I recruit them and even with the long necked key we are barely able to reach that valve. Terri finally manage it and the spewing stops.
After thanking them profusely, I go into the house and assess the damage. It’s all soaked. The floor, the walls, everything… soaked. I get changed into dry clothes and start mopping up the water with numerous towels. The garbage basket is full where I had stuck it under the main gush pouring on the floor. The roll of toilet paper on the wall is a mass of dripping white goo. I do what I can and then I crawl under a blanket in the front living room where Ian finds me huddled when he walks through the front door about 5 minutes later. Not a good night.
Two things to be very thankful for:
A) We renewed our house insurance policy last week.
B) The ill-timed-5-minutes-apart-horribly-painful contractions that started the instant I first heard that awful sound, finally stopped without having my own water break.