What up? So I got to leave work early (because I worked hard...) and Tessa is still with the grandma, and Alex is still at work, so I'm actually bored. I told Alex I had a ton to do, so good thing he rarely reads my blog, right!? Right on. I actually did have a lot to do-I finished off our S'mores Ice Cream...it wasn't gonna finish itself!
Anyway, I figure that I should do a lil update about my being knocked up and all, mostly because I have nothing else to blog about-seriously, it's like my camera got lost...it didn't, it's in my purse. But who wants to take pictures while being almost 200 pounds (that's right, I said almost.) So here we go:
Last Saturday, June 12th, Alex had invited a bunch of people over to watch some game on TV. Something to do with soccer...anyway, when everyone left it was about 11:00 PM. And I was tired-and my feet were huge. So we went to get ready for bed. Tessa fell asleep in about a minute, and I tried, but I started thinking about everything else I had to get done before the baby came. PLUS, Alex was leaving for another week the next day. So as I'm sitting in our bed, I started to freak out. I literally started sobbing. (Don't worry, it gets good.) Alex comes out of the bathroom and has this look like, "OMG. Not again." (crying is a common thing lately. Suck it.) So he asks me what's wrong and I proceed to tell him that I'm having a panic attack. I've had one or two before, so I was pretty sure that's what it was. I couldn't breath and I felt like my heart was attacking itself, so it was safe to assume. Well you know what assuming does? Exactly. Turns out, I was in labor...but don't you worry, this girl's no dummy-I figured it out pretty quickly. After about 20 minutes of my crying, I thought, "This isn't a panic attack...my stomach is hurting...oh wait. I'm contracting. A LOT. Yep, better start timing these." I'm sure I thought this in a different way, but who's really keeping track? So I tell Alex "I'm in labor, we've got to go to the hospital." Alex, the loving husband that he is, says no, because he doesn't believe me since I'm not due until July. But after about an hour of feeling like I wanted to kill him (which isn't uncommon in our house, but this time it seemed a little more intense) he finally decided to call the hospital. And they tell him to bring me on in if I feel like it. Seriously, do you think I feel like hanging out at home? Morons. Luckily Alex's lil sis was awake (it's now 1 am) and down at a friends, so her and her husband came over to stay with Tessa. Shout out to Les and Doug.
SO-we head to the hospital-they have me fill out paperwork, all the while I'm dancing around and making really gross breathing noises...plus I had already gotten all ready for bed, so I didn't even have on make up. And if you've seen me without make up, you know it's no good. So they take me to a room, and the nurse has me get all hooked up to monitors and everything so she can track the contractions. I get hooked up and she checked my girl area and informs me I'm dilated to a 2+ which was 'significant' because I was only a zero on Tuesday. But then she says that she's not quite sure because my cervix wasn't 'laboring' enough...I know, medical jargon. AND I'm only 36 weeks and 4 days, so they can't really admit me to help me through the labor. Apparently they prefer you to be 37 weeks if they're going to let you have your baby-something about their lungs being developed...I wasn't paying attention. So she said, "if only it were Wednesday" Thanks, Miran-duh. I'm thinking the same thing. So since I'm not quite effaced and it's Sunday, I can't be admitted yet, they can't break my water, and I can't get up to walk around because that will help my labor. Apparently they won't stop it, but they won't aid it. Good to know for next time, right? So she tells me she'll come back in an hour. Luckily Galaxy Quest was on. That Tim Allen gets me.
An hour later, she comes back, tells me I'm still at a 2+, but it seems to be progressing. My contractions were between 2-3 minutes apart-seriously, you could time contractions by those things. So she says that she thinks I should go home and come back if it gets worse. Then Alex tells her he's catching a flight at 3 pm, so it might be good to have the baby now. Unfortunately, my doctor decided that it would be a good week to go to Hawaii...I told her that if he were there, he'd definitely let me have my baby. He already thinks it's going to be a 10 pounder!
So she calls the on call doctor, who tells her no, they aren't going to break my water. So I get sent home, with the orders to walk around and try to get this labor into gear. She even predicted that I would be back there by 9 AM. So we get home at about 4:30 AM, all the while I'm having contractions. I walk around, jumped a little, but then I stopped because that hurts when there are things bearing down on your pelvic bones-plus it was loud and the kids were asleep. So I lay down, but can't really sleep because of the whole labor debacle. So at 6:30 I get up and walk around some more, still having consistent contractions, but I could bear it, so we decide to wait longer. Then at 8:30, I decide I'm starving, so I eat some Rice Chex...not the normal kind, the generic brand. Alex won't ever buy expensive cereal...that's off topic. Anyway, so after I eat, I lay back down and fall asleep. I wake up at 11:00. No contractions. No water broken. Obviously, no baby. It just stopped. The baby is still kicking around-everything is completely normal. It was like it had never happened.
AND I'M STILL PREGNANT TODAY.
I went to the doctor on Wednesday and the nurse said that exact same thing happened to another patient this weekend. Then she proceeds to tell me that if my doctor had been in town, he would've just broken my water and I'd have had a baby by now, which everyone loves to hear.
AND-the girl at Forever 21 asked me if I was having twins yesterday. What a bi-otch.
And I realize this post sounds like I'm hating this baby a little bit. I'm not-he'll most likely be awesome, as long as he's as cute as Dexter (please pray for my baby). It's just like I've been given a small taste of something I've been craving, only to have it snatched away after 7 hours of labor.
On a different note, I've spoken to my dad on the phone more this week than I have in my life. I swear he calls me about every 4 hours to see if I've had my baby or not. And everytime, my reply is-"Funny you should call, because I have someone who wants to say hi to his grandpa!!! No. I haven't had my baby. I will call you when it's time."
He just gets excited about the babies.