Saturday Night Fever

I had the greatest Saturday night around! I went out with the girls, ate a delicious meal, and danced all night long with my flattering top, flat abs and skinny jeans until the club kicked us out at 2 am. It was fabulous!

Just kidding. I spent it fending off contractions, in a hospital with an unflattering top, a huge belly, in nowhere near skinny jeans. My contractions kicked up a notch at 12:30 am, and I finally went into the hospital at 1:30. By the time I got there, my contractions were exactly 3 minutes apart, which was kind of cool to see on the screen. This is all new to me, you know.

I wasn't really this happy

It turns out I was having "real" contractions, but "false" labor. I take offense to the term "false labor," BTW. Nothing false about that business, Doogie.

I was sprung at 4 am with some heavy duty meds to cut the "fake" contractions, and a medication to help me sleep. It was nice, even if they forced me to down it with TWO cran-raspberry juice boxes. I was about to tell the nurse I don't do mixed fruits, but I was afraid she would take my drugs away, so I clammed up and hit the boxes while making faces at Lancer.

I have a strict anti-mixing policy. Fruits should stand alone.

This morning I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I think I actually grunted when my cankles hit the ground. I feel like I'm 500 pounds and 100 years old. Time for Mini to vacate!

My last appt is tomorrow, so we may have an update by tomorrow afternoon. I will keep everyone posted! I'm sure you're all waiting on the edges of your seats.