Happy 50th birthday, Philip!
After sitting through the church service and stopping by work for about 20 minutes, I felt like I had worked all day long. I didn't know how I could feel so bad after feeling so good just a few hours earlier, but I decided to take a shower and head to bed really early. The longer I lay there, however, the more uncomfortable I became. I told my husband that I feared my water could break at any moment. It felt like it was bulging, and I was so sore. Then, I reported that maybe I was having . . . CONTRACTIONS! (Emphasized for dramatic effect because I'm pretty sure that's how Daddy heard me say the word.) After consulting two experienced mommies and arguing back and forth about what we should do (Daddy wants to go to the hospital and Mommy wants to stay home because she sees a sleepless night ahead of her), we realized these (gulp!) contractions were suddenly coming very close together, like every three to five minutes. I tell Daddy I'm not leaving unless he showers and shaves (he doesn't argue with me remembering our close call on Gabriel's birthday). Then, I sneak in a quick load of dishes, sweep the kitchen floor, take out the trash, and clean off the dining room table (you can't give birth with a sink full of dirty dishes) while he's in the shower. Oh, and I give my toenails a quick coat of pink, then I'm ready to take off (well, after I spend about 30 minutes telling Daddy what to pack in my suitcase).
We arrived at the hospital at about 1:30AM.
The contraction monitor quickly revealed that I was, indeed, having contractions every three to five minutes. You know, I wouldn't have known those were contractions if it had been my first pregnancy. I just wasn't in enough pain, only uncomfortable. I was only pretty sure they were because it was a pain that was continuously starting and stopping. They did not feel at all like my contractions with Gabriel, though. His was pressure bearing straight down. These were slight, quick piercing pains on my lower right--kinda weird. Of course, I got checked right away, and I was very surprised I had not changed from my previous one to two centimeters dilated. I couldn't believe it. An hour and a half later, I was still contracting, but my cervix remained the same. My doctor had me stay the night and wait to see how I was in the morning when she was able to come in. My contractions were completely subsided by then. She rechecked me, but I am still the same one to two centimeters. It was false labor.
That's so weird, right? I never thought I'd be leaving the hospital pregnant after feeling those contractions coming so quickly and progressively stronger. Daddy, I know, was disappointed. He is ready for me to quit hogging his little girl. Mommy, on the other hand, is relieved. She needs to stay in there just a little longer. I don't want to pump because my baby is in the nursery getting help breathing; I want to nurse--skin to skin, chest to chest. I need her to heal me in that moment. Then, I'll spend the rest of my life repaying her for it.