17 April ~ My day from h*ll (there's no better description)....

On Friday, I started having contractions about 1am (hallelujah), and of course, I got up, timed them, ate some toast thinking I wouldn't get to eat pretty soon at the hospital, and waited... About 7am, they were about 8 minutes apart, and I was getting anxious to leave, but again waited.... I did NOT want to be the girl they sent home. So about 9am, they started to taper down to about every 20 minutes. Not good. But then came the back pain. WOWZA is all I can say. I have NEVER felt anything like it, and it just wouldn't ease. The contractions were now about 30 minutes apart, but I was worried about this back labor business and how you quantify or check that, so I called my doctor who proceeded to direct us to go into the L&D and have it checked out. {Insert side note: I didn't want or think I needed to go in at this point but thought I should trust the person with the medical degree and who wants to chance things with a baby on the way.} So Mark & I loaded up and headed to the hospital where I was admitted and given the weirdest nurse on the planet. Seriously she was beyond crazy and talked to me like I was a 2-yr-old (story to follow), which is not smart when the recipient is a 9 month pregnant woman with contractions and back spasms (and a silver tongue like me). Anywho.... they tied me down with the monitoring strips. Lincoln was going crazy but he was doing well so that's all that mattered to me. I was contracting every 3 minutes, but not the "good" kind, so they decided to just watch it for awhile. About 30 minutes later, crazy woman came back in and said she'd talked to my doctor and they were sending me home (duh) but wanted me to take some vicatin for my back. She then, and I kid you not, told me to touch my nose (I obliged), then, touch my chin (I obliged with a look of WTH), and then, she told me to touch my forehead. She then, condescendingly explained that if my so-called contractions felt like the first two, ignore them. If, however, my belly felt like my forehead, then, I should count them. That lady is SOOOOO lucky I didn't pop her in the nose (or chin or forehead)! Because I really, really, really wanted to. But I was very nice b/c it would be my luck to be readmitted later and she's who I'd get. Moving on...

I took the drugs (happily) and hobbled as fast as I could away from the deranged nurse (did I mention she has a lazy eye that swiveled around like the character in Harry Potter). About 10 minutes later, my head is bobbling and my eyes can barely stay open. We arrive at Sailer's Nana's house (because they have a great tub and Sailer is there and I didn't want to mess her around anymore). I try to eat...fail. I try to get in the tub... fail (or more so, Mark thought I was going to sink into the water on accident). So I got in bed and passed out. I was out for awhile, but would invariably try to wake up and get out bed. The final time (about 11pm), we or more so Mark was determined to get home. So we load up, start to pull out of the driveway, and OH CRAP.... I have to fling open the car door and proceed to vomit uncontrollably. To add insult to injury (and because I am now soooo passed vanity or modesty), I pee all over myself. The combination of baby directly on the bladder and the heaving clearly were not very compatible. At this point, I just want to crawl into a hole, curl up, and well, not die, but at least pretend that this day had never happened.

So I am still pregnant. Still not really making progress (so the nurse with the one good eye) told me. And am about 2 steps outside the nuthouse door. (=

Someday I will think this was all funny.... but definitely, another day.