The faucet was completely dry. Confused, I tried the faucets in our bathrooms. None of them were working. Before I entered full panic mode, I waddled downstairs (something that lately I try to avoid doing at all costs) and checked the circuit breakers. When I realized that none of them had been tripped and finally surmised that the culprit was most likely the well pump, I had a full blown meltdown.
Between the unexpected hospitalization and baby scare over the weekend, Scott's dental procedure and the ensuing stressful recovery, and my looming work and prenatal anxieties, the last thing I needed to tackle was a failed well pump. Of course home repairs never come at an optimal time, but this one seemed to develop simply to push me to a breaking point. With no running water and unsure of who to call, I felt totally defeated.
Of course, defeat is not part of my DNA. I was raised by a single mom who demonstrated both the necessity of invention and must try attitude which carried our family through a myriad of home repairs. After dropping off Robby at school, I cried on the couch for about 30 minutes. When my head hurt to the point where I couldn't cry anymore, I ventured downstairs and began to investigate. I managed to find a sticker for a well pump repair company on a blue tank in the utility room. I was elated, buoyed by the fact that this company has at least been to our house before and might be able to help. I called, and they managed to fit me in for an afternoon appointment.
Typically, being without water would be an inconvenience. When pregnant, the lack of a working toilet took the frustrations to a whole new level. I think I wore a path between my house and Mr. Bill's because of my constant need to use his facilities. I never realized how frequently I had to empty my bladder until I had to cross two yards to achieve this goal! He laughed each time he answered his door, and I have no doubt he will be able to spin today's events into a plethora of stories to be recounted for years to come.
By 7:00 in the evening we finally had water restored to the house. My educated guess was correct and the well pump had indeed burned out. It makes me appreciate running water. I would not have liked schlepping buckets of water to the house from the stream, which had become plan B.