False Alarm

After two nights of no sleep because of sporadic contractions and unbearable pressure, I packed my bag and we headed to the hospital this morning.  And three hours later, we pulled back in our driveway. My contractions are still too sporadic and I had not dilated any further and my doctor didn't want to push things since we are on schedule for an induction on Wednesday.  I moaned, I begged, I pleaded, but he still said no.  My loving husband didn't help either.  He spoke up and said that he sure doesn't like it when one of his cows "goes early" and he thinks cows and babies are pretty much the same, so we should just wait.  So as I lay in a flimsy little hospital gown on a very uncomfortable table, feeling like an elephant is napping on my bladder, and beginning to sweat, my husband and favorite doctor begin an in depth conversation about cattle.  I should note here that I threatened Jody's life a few days ago and told him in the sweetest way I knew how that if he dared to compare me to one of his pregnant cows again, I would likely hurt him.  Hurt him really, really bad.  I have been told that I appear to be "bagging up"  and "springing" more times than I care to remember, all while being reminded that cattle give birth outdoors in the freezing cold with no help and no medication.  So imagine my joy when I had to endure listening to a very, very long conversation between my husband and my doctor about birthing cattle.  They discussed how the calf comes out (Jody demonstrated this), how they nurse, what to do in the event of twins and just how much cows cost these days.  And I laid there, with my hand draped across my sweaty forehead wondering if I had entered the twilight zone.  At some point I spoke up and said something about breaking my own water which apparently startled my doctor because he quickly told me I could damage one of the babies eyes if I tried that.  The poor man thought I was serious.  I assured him I was only kidding and then rolled over to get more comfortable as I continued to listen to my husband teach my doctor about birthing calves.  After a short discussion on birthing pigs and the value of veterinarians, I was unhooked from the monitors and sent home.  Jody grinned on the ride home as he said, "See, I told you.  I know what I'm talking about.  Calves and babies are the same.  You just don't push things."  I bit my tongue.  Nearly in two.

So I continue to wait, knowing that Wednesday will be here soon. Rebecca came over tonight to rub pressure points on my foot that are supposed to make you go into labor.  And sweet little Landry has rubbed nearly an entire bottle of lotion on my belly, while saying, "Okay Will, pop out.  Pop out!"   Oh, if it were only that easy.