I thought I was so close.
So close as in real contractions, coming regularly, making me uncomfortable.
Um, apparently not.
They started Sunday night and weren't horrible, but bothersome enough that I couldn't sleep. I moved around the house trying to get comfortable, which was pointless, and finally decided after a few hours that I would try and lay down and get some rest in case in was the. real. thing.
Which of course it wasn't because then they stopped.
The next morning, I woke up feeling nauseated but got crackin' on the day as I was going to visit Lindsay. While I was there, I had several contractions and started sweating, feeling more nauseous and nasty and I began to think "surely this MUST be it!" When I got home all I wanted to do was lay down since I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, but I didn't want the contractions to stop again so I called a friend and hiked around the mall for two hours. With a cracked pelvis. Insert expletive here.
But it seemed to work because the contractions were coming regularly and were hard enough that I had to catch my breath to keep going. But once again, as I drove home, they started to subside. Insert monster expletive here.
This morning I woke up feeling horrid, promptly threw up, and have been laying around ever since. The only reason I'm on the computer is because I'm so bored and tired of laying on the couch that I thought I might set something on fire just for entertainment.
At this point, I feel like my body belongs in the Smithsonian under the heading "World's Most Stubborn Physique" because I feel like I will NEVER birth this child. I am beyond well wishes and kind words. I am one contraction away from a full blown panic attack as I feel positively claustrophobic in this body that just won't cooperate. It's not pretty here, to say the least.
If anyone has a good book or DVD to loan me, please do. Apparently I can only watch HGTV for so long before I want to throw Vern Yip through a window, which says a lot as I generally adore him.
Until Thursday, my dear readers, when I have yet another doctor's appointment which will reveal absolutely nothing. I'd like to say I'll have a plan by then but I'm thinking the only plan I'll have will involve a criminal act involving me and the good doctor. Keep him in your prayers.