A Little Embarrassed

You know how after you have a baby and you've gone through labour you tell everyone (or at least think) "I will never forget the pain of labour"????
well, apparently that phrase did not hold true for me because on Wednesday night I thought I was in labour. Alright - I'll back track just a bit. I was having Braxton Hicks. But, they were weird Braxton Hicks. They were consistent and painful. Not super painful, more like pressure-filled and uncomfortable. And I felt kind of nauseous. I decided to wait it out. From 6pm-3am I waited it out. Phat Daddy went out to a meeting which was fine with me.
I put Doodle to bed, slept for a bit, and then woke up at around 10, still with the Braxton Hicks and still uncomfortable. Finally Phat Daddy got home.
He sprang into action putting the car seat in the van, helping me get all the hospital stuff in order and then went to bed. While I timed things.
I tried to sleep but I couldn't. Between adrenaline and nerves and feeling like crap sleep was not coming.
Finally at 3 am I called Labour and Delivery. I explained that I thought it was Braxton Hicks, but the doctor told me he wanted me to come in because some people don't fine labour as painful as others. And he said the consistency was concerning.
Great.
So, I woke up Phat Daddy whose first question was "are you sure."
I didn't know how to answer him. With Doodle it was WAY different. I was in excruciating pain. Forget about calling the hospital, I could hardly string two words together. So, no, I wasn't sure.
To add to the frustration is the fact that we have Doodle.
It would be one thing for the 2 of us to hop in the van and go check it out. It's a whole other thing to then call and wake up my parents or sister and bring Doodle over, and hope that Doodle goes back to sleep.
But, since we'd been instructed we sprang into action. Within minutes the van was loaded, Doodle was at Grandma's and we were en route to the hospital.
And what happened?
NOTHING.
They hooked me up to monitors for what seemed like forever. And ... the Braxton Hicks stopped. Forget about contractions there was nothing. The baby fell asleep or something. And I got more and more annoyed as absolutely nothing happened.
Eventually the doctor came. She was really really nice. She discovered I was 1 cm dilated (which I could have been for months). Her advice was to go out for a couple of hours, see if contractions pick up and then come back.
Of course by this time I was in tears. I was tired, annoyed, frustrated, and sore.
So, Phat Daddy and I did what she suggested. We stopped for coffee and then went for a really long walk.
Because the hospital happens to be in walking distance of where my old apartment is and the university we met at and both went to school, we went for a walk around the campus and the surrounding area. I knew the baby wasn't coming, but we figured it was still nice to walk. And, at 6:30 in the morning, what else is there to do?
It was actually kind of neat because we haven't walked in the area for years. I mean, we've gone to the nearby shopping centre, but not just wandered the campus. For the crappiness that was the morning the walk was nice.
We finally made our way back to the hospital for about 8am. I had Phat Daddy call my mom and explain that because I was only 1cm I was going home.
As I was sitting there feeling sheepish for not knowing the symptoms the nurse came in and said she found someone I would be happy to see. Having never met this nurse, and having no energy to figure out who she meant (my hairstylist? a celebrity?) in walked my own ob. I love my ob, and pretty much everyone loves her. She's an amazing doctor, and very very kind. Plus, she knows I struggle with depression and emotions and seriously remembered our previous conversations. She had come into the hospital to check on some of her patients, and when she saw my name she decided to examine me herself instead of the resident doing it.
I was still 1 cm.
The good news is that the baby was doing really well and was healthy and active (I knew that). And the other good news was that despite the excitement and exercise my blood pressure was fine. And she told me not to be embarassed.
But still ... I am.
we made it home. And slept.
I have a week to go. This is totally do-able. But really ... Grrr! I'm such a knob.