Still feeling about the same, I think. I brought the big ball from upstairs and maybe things will move along today. I got a few hours of sleep last night, which is good, because I didn't even nap yesterday.
Since I wasn't sure how it was all going to go down, we went for pancakes on the way home. Musical Daddy's idea, but I was strongly in favor. 3 AM at the diner without the kids certainly makes me feel young. The pancakes were delicious. Perhaps Ender is trying to bulk up a bit more for his arrival.
I'm not going to bother timing contractions. I live 10 minutes from the hospital, maybe more like 15 if it's the middle of the day and things are busier. If I feel like I'm in transition, maybe then I'll go. Why bother staying in the hospital unless I'm a wee bit of a basket case (you know where I'm at, mommies)? I've had suggestions that indicate I should have tried to stay, and perhaps the doctor might have kept me had I lived further away or had I not told him where I lived, saying "I'm 10 minutes away, I can be back here in no time." Because I was progressing, kind of, but not within the hour or so that I was there.
Triage in labor and delivery is pretty standard, as this is a different hospital from the one where I had the boys. That said, everyone seemed quite nice and friendly at this hospital, and I remember the first triage visit with Meatball being one where I was very annoyed and stuck in bed.
It's the stress. It's pressure. Not the physical pressure of being about to drop a bowling ball but the pressure of now having indicated that the baby is coming and him just not being here. And the "helpful advice" and all of the things that people say are "supposed" to happen when it's a second or third child...and the panic! Not from me but from everyone else. Even my father called home about 4 times yesterday from work. The phone rang constantly yesterday (although much of that was someone calling from India trying to sell health insurance...).
So...nope. I have not had that baby yet. Maybe tomorrow.