Last night I had my first real taste of non-forced labour. The kind that just comes on all on its own, the kind I didn’t get to experience with my first son because he refused to make any movement toward being born. We really forced him out.
On the way home from my sister’s wedding reception (yeah! I made it to the wedding!), I started to get contractions. Hard and heavy contractions. They radiated right into my back, which was exactly what my labour was like with my son. They were happening every few minutes and, to be honest, I kinda thought it was the real thing.
Hubs, totally convinced we needed to run to the hospital, was anxious to get me out of the car. I was anxious to get home because I knew (from “A Baby Story” of course) that you could labour for hours and I’d rather be at home for that. Also, I hadn’t even packed a bag for the hospital yet. I hadn’t even thought about it.
Long story short, we got home, I packed a bag, walked around and lay down for a bit. And the contractions stopped.
False labour is no fun!!! I was so disappointed to realize that the pain I had just gone through wasn’t going to end in another baby yet…I know it will happen eventually but what a buzz kill! But I did manage to get a few hours of sleep, some really yummy breakfast, and a taste of what I’m in for if this baby decides to make it out on his own schedule and before the doctor books an induction.