False Alarm.

Well, she did it again. This time she was a little more serious about it, but it resulted in the same conclusion -- hours of labor, high hopes, but no baby.

So last night around 8:30pm I started having contractions. They weren't very painful, but as I watched the clock over the subsequent half-hour, it turned out they were coming every 5 minutes. We kept timing them and they were very regular, and fit into the criteria of "call the doc" -- 1 minute long, 5 minutes apart for 1 hour. We called my folks and they came and got Wilson, and then we called the doctor who said that since I wasn't really in pain (they were uncomfortable, but not like labor with Wilson) that we should wait a little longer before coming in. (For anyone who finds that suspicious, I should mention he gave me the option to come in, but since I hope for another intervention-free childbirth, I declined. The last thing I wanted was them to admit me before I was ready to be admitted. Ya know?)

So I went to bed hoping to get some rest before having to get to the really hard part. And the next thing I know? It's 5 am and there's not a contraction in sight.

Cue sadness. I was so depressed today. To cheer me up, Josh took me out for a blueberry pancake breakfast, and it helped a little. Then he wisely refused to let me lay around and mope all day, so he bought me a book and took me to lunch and I have slowly come back to myself. (He is a good man, isn't he?) He keeps reminding me that she'll come when she is ready, and to not be discouraged because last night means we're getting closer.

It was so exciting for those few hours last night believing we were finally going to meet our little lady. To snuggle her and smooch her and pinch her tiny toes. But I know she'll be here soon, even if her timing is entirely her own.