That could all change at any moment. Because that one centimeter may just send me over the edge, depending on how stubborn it decides to be.
So... let's see, since my last update, I finally made a decision to call my doctor and discuss the little issue of all those contractions. I wasn't optimistic. After all, I'd been watching a clock since 5am, and still wasn't feel much discomfort or pain. But the tightening was getting harder to ignore, so on my doctor's advice, I set out for the hospital yesterday afternoon.
I arrived, checked in, and got all hooked up to the monitors and machines. And here is what I learned over the next 30 minutes:
1. I was having contractions every 3-4 minutes
2. They were consistent and getting stronger.
3. I was also running a slight fever of 99.5 ("Oh, my hubby is sick" I informed the nurse)
4. I was only 1 cm dilated.
The nurse left armed with that information and called my doctor. She came back in 20 minutes later. "We're going to let you go home."
OK... I was prepared for that. After all, I was only 1 cm dilated, and I have done this before. I knew that the bulk of the marathon still lay ahead of me. I began to climb out of the bed when she started giving me instructions.
"YOu did the right thing by coming in tonight. And please come back if you experience any of the following:
1. Contractions that occur less than 5 minutes apart
2. Contractions that increase in intensity
3. or if you start to run a fever."
I just looked at her and said, "So.. would you like me to walk to the elevator and come right back? Because you just informed me that I am well-past every symptom you have told me to come back to the hospital for..."
Her only response was, "Yes, but you're only 1 cm."
O.K. Thank you...
I have to say that I hoped I would be in a position of experience going into my second child's birth. Knowing firsthand what childbirth is like, I have rested in the knowledge that this time around, at least I knew what was coming.
But this morning, I'm at a loss. I have no clue when to call my doctor or when to go to the hospital. I am a novice all over again.
But in her defense, the nurse was right after all. Sometime around midnight, the contractions (which had intensified to the point I could not breathe through them), just stopped. I fell into a deep slumber (well, besides the 4 times I awoke to go to the bathroom) and woke up this morning with enough reserves to get through at least another day.
So, like my Facebook status reads:
"False Labor = 2; Mom 2 Drew = 0... Well-played contractions... well-played."