Tuesday, January 12, 2010

False Alarm

Last night as I was cooking dinner, I began to have contractions in regular intervals. They didn't hurt though, so I just kept doing what I was doing. Then as I cleaned up dinner, bathed Ada, and got her into bed, the contractions continued, becoming increasingly more uncomfortable as I became increasingly more panicky. I found myself making deals with God, ridiculous, I know.

"Lord," I said,"I need to clean the bathroom, and my bags are not packed, and I just want a good night's sleep tonight instead of labor. Can I please not be in real labor, please?"

I had planned to clean the master bathroom last night because it is in dire need, and I just could not imagine going to the hospital to have a baby without cleaning it first. Plus, the edges nearest the ceiling in John's room still needed to be painted. Being really honest with ya'll, at one point I was in tears, explaining to Scott all the reasons that I could not, refused, in fact, to be in labor. So...I decided to lie very still in bed and read a book, and sure enough they stopped. I thought if I ignored what was happening, it would just go away.

I had a doctor's appointment this morning, and the doctor assured me that contractions this early with the second one are normal, but it probably doesn't mean anything yet. Thank goodness. He wouldn't check my progress yet, though--he said we would start that next week. I love the doctor that I saw today--Dr. Sharon. He delivered Ada, and if by chance you find that the Lord places me on your heart in the next few weeks, please join me in praying that Dr. Sharon is on call whenever I do go into labor with John. I trust his judgement. I think it is because of all of the small decisions that he made that I had such a smooth labor with Ada. I prayed and prayed and prayed that he would be on call with Ada, and sure enough, he was. Could it happen again?

By the way--the painting is DONE. FINISHED. Pictures will follow soon, once the paint is dry and the furniture is in place. His little clothes are washed and folded and tucked into drawers, and blankets are stacked, because I imagine that a February baby requires many blankets. And Ada keeps saying, "John is coming to my house," so maybe she gets it just a little bit?

So, that's an update on the pregnancy. Hang in there, John, hang in there, there are still a few things I need to cross off the to-do list.

4 comments:

Jenny said...

I am glad it turned out to be a false alarm! I too have been having contractions; mostly when I'm sleeping at night, but they've been strong enough to wake me up. However, they go away. I've been telling myself to relax more and not worry about the things that aren't done, because I'm way more prepared this time than with my first baby!
Can't wait to see some pictures of John's room!

And, do you find yourself having moments where you're very sad that it won't just be you and Ada anymore? I've been getting teary-eyed often thinking about how I won't have very many more special days/moments with Andrew...just wondering if it was hormones or if any other prenant women thought of this?!

Rachel said...

I am so glad that it was a false alarm as well- believe me, I completely understand what it's like to think about all that needs to be done. When I went into labor with Wyatt- I HAD to mop the kitchen floor before I went to the hospital. There I was bent over a mop reeling with contractions. There was no way i was bring a baby home to dirty floors :) Hang in there! I am praying for you- and that Dr. Sharon will be on call.

Lamm said...

Hope all goes well! Will say a little prayer all goes according to "plan." :)

Sarah Garner said...

I want to be on whatever update list you have when you are having this baby! Northside it approximately 1/2 mile from my house and I pass it on the way to work. I want to come see you while you are there! And in McDonough after but we'll have to plan that later. If any of your family is here and wants to stay close, we have a guest room! They can all squeeze in to this tiny abode of ours.