False labor

Whooeee! What a crazy week it's been! After a lovely start with my parents taking Cole overnight for New Year's so Craig and I could just spend some time together and actually sleep in, it all went downhill.

Monday I felt pretty crappy at the end of the day and had to sit down after doing dishes because I felt all weird in my belly. This weird feeling got worse and soon the contractions started. They never got horrible, but enough to make me pretty miserable and worried. I was timing them at about 15 minutes apart, and totally inconsistent, so I thought that it just must be false labor, so Craig took over Cole duty and I hung out on the couch with gigantic glasses of water. Having had this kind of thing happen before, I knew to just start drinking a lot of water and relax. Three and a half hours go by and I'm still not feeling better. Not worse, but not better. Of course, Craig had to ref a game that night, so I called my parents to let them know what was going on and they decided to swing by and check up on me. First, my mother insisted I call the doctor, which I didn't want to do because I was sure she would just tell me to do what I was already doing. Just to get her off my back, I called and after explaining what was happening, she told me to go to the hospital to get checked out. This was about 8:50pm. I was not happy. I didn't want to go anywhere, much less the hassle of maternity triage. So, I cried. My parents showed up 5 minutes later and I said, "So who's driving me to the hospital?". And I cried some more. My dad stayed at the house and my mom took me. I had to call Craig, who had taken his cell phone on the ice with him in case I did go in. I felt horrible calling him in the middle of his game, but he told me to. He answered the phone, on the ice, while the puck was in play, and I cried. I tried to get the words out, but they wouldn't come, and he finally yelled, "Did the doctor tell you to go to the hospital???!!!", I bawled, "YES", and he said he was on his way.

At the ER, I walked up to the desk and was still pretty flustered and started stammering to the intake lady, who just looked at me and said, "Baby?". "YES", I said. She called maternity and they came down to get me with a wheelchair. I hate wheelchairs. They make me feel dumb and completely out of control and everyone stares at you. Especially when you're pregnant and then you get these special looks of concern mixed with "Awww". I wanted to throw things at everyone I passed who gave me such looks. By the time we got to triage, I had to pee so bad, I thought I would pee my pants. Of course, I get into the hospital garb (sans panties - oh how I loved that) and begged to pee. The nurse said, "Oh sure, sweetie, why don't you give me a urine sample then." Which of course, means I had to wipe first with those stupid cleany wipey things, start to pee, stop, and then pee in the cup. This is not cool when I have to pee so bad it feels like it's going to come out of my ears.

I survived the urine sample, but then had to lay in triage with all the monitors on me for three flippin' hours and then have some on-call resident shove her arm up my hooha before they let me go home. They had recorded contractions, but nothing of significance, and my cervix was thick and closed. Hooray. I was only 31 weeks, so I don't want her coming too early. Though they confirmed I was not really in labor, I still felt like butt. The next day, I still felt like butt, but with no contractions. I have yet to have a good day since then. I'd like just a tad more energy. I think I've dropped though because most of the time when I walk, I feel like my belly is hanging on the floor.