I’m trying really hard not to be one of those women that comes waddling into labor & delivery proclaiming, “I’m in labor!” only to be sent home. But, when you wake up at 11:30pm with the most horrifyingly painful cramps and a rock-hard uterus, it’s pretty easy to see why women suddenly rush to the hospital in the middle of the night. They were coming every 5-10 minutes, and I thought for sure, this is it. I’ve slept through the easy ones, and now I’ve got a little over an hour to get to the hospital. When the next one hit, I thought, forget an hour. I’m gonna need that epidural in the next 15 minutes! Holy cow. All I could do was stop moving and try very hard to breathe. I tried waking Ryan so he could help me time them, but that was a fruitless effort. Even with the light on and me shaking him, all I accomplished was getting him to frown at me, roll over, and put the pillow over his head. My next thought was, I’m not going to the hospital with greasy hair. So, I decided to get fully ready while I killed an hour (the doctor told me they have to be coming 3-5 minutes apart for an hour before I can go to the hospital). Now I know why all those women on TLC and Discovery Health always have their hair in a ponytail and no makeup on. When the contractions hit, you lose all will to do anything other than curl into the fetal position and suck your thumb. Even so, I managed to get my hair washed and my legs shaved. As I crawled out of the shower, though, I ended up sitting on the toilet, hugging the trash can while I simultaneously vomited and had diarrhea. If I wasn’t pregnant and had eaten something unusual, I would have been convinced that I had the worst case of food poisoning ever. But, it had been well over 6 hours since my last meal, and it was a pretty bland one at that (plus, Ryan had eaten the same thing, and he obviously wasn’t sick. I was just a tad bit irritated with him as I suffered through the contractions). Anyway, once I made it off the toilet, I went back to getting ready (after I brushed my teeth twice). The contractions were still coming as I was trying to pack a bag (again, while Ryan slept through it all), and as much pain as I was in, I was getting pretty excited. But then, just as I was trying to figure out how to get Ryan up and about to drive me to the hospital (now I see why they advise against you driving yourself), they suddenly stopped. Are you kidding?? So, here I was, freshly showered, shaved, and hair fixed, ready to go to the hospital, and no contractions. I went back to bed, woke up with a few more lighter contractions that faded away to nothing, and that was it. Since then, I’ve had lots more contractions, increasing pressure, and my pelvis feels like it’s splitting in half, but still no progression. Either I’m in the world’s longest and slowest labor, or I’m about to endure the longest 2 or more weeks of my life. Either way, I really wish things would get moving!