I Might As Well

Well, I've posted about every Dr. appointment lately, so I might as well post about this last one. I was wasting time on FB, but it went loony on me and I had to shut it down. Raegan is going on her third hour of napping and I am restless, so instead of doing something productive, I will babble about the Dr visit!!
The office called on Friday with the little recording to say I had a visit at 11:10 today. I scribbled that on my calender even though it didn't sound right and went on with all of my "trying-so-very-hard-to-induce-labor" activities and forgot about it. So this morning I put Raegan down for a little nap and played too long on the computer. At about 9:45 I decided to call and double check my appointment time. The very chipper gal on the phone told me my appointment was at 10:10! Egads.
"Oh, the recording told me 11:10." I felt silly arguing since I'm the one who called to verify.
"Yes, the recording tells you your appointment time with the Dr. You are having an NST, so it starts an hour earlier." Pause. "I'm sorry. Do you think you'll make it?"
Forced laugh. "Oh sure, I will! See you soon!"
I quickly called my dad who was going to watch Rae for me while my mom went with me to my appointment (she likes that stuff and Richard was working). I quickly explained my blunder and asked if he could have mom meet me at the office to watch Raegan there. Then I hopped in the shower (90 seconds in there - I swear!), got dressed, plucked Raegan up from what appeared to be a lovely nap and sped to the Dr. I was only 5 minutes late! Ha! (And we live quite a ways from the office).
Anywho, Rae and my mom came into the room with me for my NST and both did wonderful. Raegan was calm and obedient, as was Mom - she's out of control about baby stuff.
Fo did wonderful and I had some major contractions on the monitor. The thing is, they don't really hurt. I get super tight and can't move when they come, but they aren't really kill-me-now painful. But they are huge on the monitor.
In fact, near the end of the test, a random Dr. came in (I think an actual Dr. has to check the strip and release me) and said "Whoa! Happy baby!" I was having a whopper of a contraction right then and she turned to the nurse and instructed that as soon as that one was over, they could unhook me. By then Richard had shown up (it was slow at work so he popped by in his uniform - so cute! Sigh! Oops! Back to the story) so the three of us waited...and waited...I shifted around awkwardly. I have no control over contractions, but felt silly that this one wasn't ending. It started to go down then peaked again. By then my Nurse Practitioner came in and said we could be unhooked. She knew we would be there all day if we waited!
I asked her (my Dr is out of town until Friday) if the extra fluid could muffle the pain of the contractions and she thinks that is what is happening. She also thinks that my body is trying to head into labor but I have so much fluid and baby in there that my "uterus can't get it's hands around it - so to speak".
Then we (ok she) laughed and laughed about the flooding that will take place when my water does break. No small trickles for this girl. I needn't have been concerned at church.
We went over the plan for Friday: Arrive at the hospital and monitor baby for a bit. Make sure she's happy. If so, we start pitocen. Around lunch time my Dr will come in and break my water (if the contractions don't do it) and hopefully Fo will be here by afternoon. Sounds easy breezy, right? Ahhhhhhh!!!! I'm terrified. But I'm praying lots and do feel God's peace in place when I'm not wrestling it away.
One last random funny: my grandpa has been out of town visiting a friend and came back last night while Richard and I were having dinner at my parents'. (He lives with them). He told me that someone told him I was leaking and thought my water broke. I assured him it was a false alarm to which he responded (quite loudly and on the front sidewalk by the car as we were preparing to leave)
"Well whad'ya do? PEE YOUR PANTS?!"
Blush. No. But thanks, Grandpa.
I wasn't about to launch into all the stuff that happens in your pants when labor is close...instead I'll blog about it for the whole world to see. That's much less embarrassing.