I'm over it.

I am so over false labor.    Yet again (Saturday night, right on schedule) I woke up several times thinking it was going to happen… then I was finally able to get to sleep after 3am.  But the contractions hadn’t stopped, they just dialed it down in intensity enough to let me sleep.  But then they picked up again around 6.  So I got up and showered, etc and then went back to bed.

By the time we got to church and sat down (in the foyer because we were late) they had stopped.  I joked with Matt saying that they are going to stop long enough for us to take a nice long nap that afternoon and then pick up again.

So what happened?  They stopped just long enough for me to take a nap (even if not very long) in the afternoon.  Then they picked up again.  By 7 I was really hurting.  By 8 we called our sitter, she was here by 9:30.  Matt and I were out the door by 10:30.

Having never been to the hospital I didn’t quite know what to expect.  They strapped a monitor to me and sure enough, contractions every 6 minutes.  I was only at a 2, so they sent Matt and I to wander the deserted halls for an hour.  By the end of that hour, I couldn’t walk through the contractions anymore.  The verdict?  No change.  So I tried to sleep through another round of monitoring (it being about 1am at this point).  The contractions were much worse and much closer together.  Then they sent me out for another hour to walk.  I had to sit in pain every two or three minutes while Matt looked on helplessly.  Here I am thinking “Isn’t the reason why we came to the hospital in the first place is so I could AVOID this kind of pain?”  After the hour was up, I was on the verge of tears from pain and fatigue.  We went in, I laid down on the bed, and she checked me… no change.  By the time the monitor had finished it’s work, those blasted contractions had dropped down to a very irregular timing and I was able to sleep a little bit.  And I was still at a 2.

So at 4 am we went home.  I’m so bummed.  Not just because he has declined the opportunity of being my favorite child by being born two weeks early.  But also because I dragged my favorite friend out of her house late at night and then had to send her packing at 4:30.  And also, because I feel like I was in various levels of pain for eight plus hours for absolutely nothing.  I was at a 2 last Monday.  I seriously could have done without that.  Matt had to get up 2 hours later and go to work.  Poor guy.  I bet he’s a zombie.

On the bright side, the Sandman sensed my trouble and Spencer slept in (or at least played quietly in his room) until 10 this morning.  An absolutely unheard of event.  He’s usually pounding on his door by 7.

I have also come to the conclusion that everything people say about how to “move things along” or speed up labor, etc. is totally bogus.  So is the theory that “every contraction you have means that’s one contraction you won’t have while you are actually in labor”.

Because there really is NO possible way to tell if the woman who used evening primrose, or raspberry leaf tea, or had her membranes stripped or lots of walking, or ANYTHING else, would have gone into labor anyway if she hadn’t done those things.  And telling a woman to be grateful for her false (when it doesn’t feel false) labor is just a way to keep her from killing herself while she waits.

We went to the hospital last night a little on the skeptical side, neither of us thought it was really going to happen, but things can happen fast with your fourth child and we wanted to be careful.  By the end of our second walk around there was no doubt in either of our minds that we were having a baby today.  Only to have it come almost to a complete stop the second I laid down for my third round of monitoring.

So as of today I’m trying a new approach.  Every time I start to contract regularly, I’m sitting my butt down.  Or taking a nap.  Because it is only real if it still progresses during a state of laziness.

I have an appointment this afternoon… but other than that, don’t expect to see me out of the house (or off the couch), or with a smile on my face, until this boy makes his appearance.  I am officially off “keeping things moving along” duty.  Because it’s all a hoax and doesn’t make a lick of difference.  The End.

Amy, you are an angel and I’m making you a cheesecake as soon as I can stand for more than two minutes at a time.

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