My OB appointment yesterday really threw me off. Hearing that I was 4 cm dilated was such a shock, like finding out that "Operation Repo" is all staged. Looking back, I almost wish I didn't ask the doctor to check, because it's made me more paranoid about labor starting and getting to the hospital on time.
At bedtime or just before (9 or 10 pm-ish?) I started feeling very off. Not like how I am normally off, but like off off. Twin A was suddenly super low in my pelvis, and he was thrashing around and it hurt like crazy. I had sporadic contractions, and although most I still couldn't feel unless I was specifically checking, there was at least one that seemed to hit a bit harder. And I'll spare you the details (are you shocked?) but I was going to the bathroom way too frequently, even for someone in her 35th week of a twin pregnancy. My stomach just didn't seem right.
None of these were enough to raise the labor flag, but they were all reminiscent of the hours before I began active labor with Bean. I was completely wired and couldn't sleep, thinking about how I was already 4 cm and how any minute my water could break. With Bean, my cervix was Fort Knox until the day before I delivered. Certainly things would get started soon.
DH was concerned and kept suggesting we call the doctor on-call, but I resisted. We agreed that he would go to sleep, because we were better off if at least one of us had a nap. I checked my DVR and ironically, the only show waiting for me was "16 and Pregnant" on MTV. I half expected my water to break just in sympathy.
Just before 1 am, I was losing my mind. I kept going to the bathroom, Twin A was trying to bust through the exit, and I thought I might have been leaking some amniotic fluid. I woke DH, we got dressed, told my Mom our plan, and headed to Labor and Delivery.
My mind was racing as we drove -- I was suddenly absolutely terrified at the prospect of meeting our twins. Fortunately DH was calm and set me at ease, his hand resting gently on my knee. (I guess it's easier to be calm when you know that no one will be man-handling your internal organs in the near future.) We talked and joked, it was almost like a little date we haven't had in forever. I asked him if being born on St. Patrick's Day would make our kids Irish Twins. HA HA! *sigh* I slay me.
Soon we were back at our home-away-from-home, the birth center. I was put in a triage room so they could monitor the babies, chart contractions, check if my bag of waters had broken, and see if I had dilated any farther. Our nurse was very nice. TOO NICE. She was waaaaay too pleased about collecting urine samples at 2 am. I'm guessing Prozac was involved.
Sure enough, one by one, the tests showed that I was not in labor. The bag of waters was still intact, my cervix was still dilated 3-4 cm, and I wasn't having any major contractions. Between the rock hard "bed," the uncomfortable monitors, my sleep deprivation, and Miss Perky Nurse, I was about to lose it when we were finally released around 4 am.
I am so annoyed at myself for getting so panicky as to cause that trip, costing DH and I almost an entire night's sleep. And not to mention $50, because we learned that if you go to triage and they don't admit you, you have to pay your insurance ER co-pay. I really think if I hadn't had that "4 cm" hanging over my head, I would have just gone to sleep last night. That'll teach me.
On the bright side, DH took the day off because of our overnight adventure. We slept in and then watched "Angels and Demons" in bed while my Mom and Bean were at preschool. It was so unexpected and relaxing and wonderful, unlike the weekends when he has to tackle our to-do list.
It's 10 pm now, and it doesn't look like I'll be having Irish Twins after all. The rest of today has been completely uneventful. I'm hoping I can hold out until 36 weeks on Sunday... we'll see!