So.  We visited the hospital on Thursday.

That was not on my list of things to do in my spare time.

I started feeling strangely at work, and on my way home, I called my mommy and described the odd sensations in my uterus.  Cramping, contractions, a general feeling of desperately needing to have a bowel movement...and she said, "How far apart are the feelings?"

"Oh just off and on throughout the day.  More on than off recently, I guess."

"Uh-huh.  How far apart?"

So I started timing them.  "About six minutes."

"Call Jeremy and then call your doctor," she told me. 

But you know me.  I march to the beat of my own drum.  I called Jeremy and told him I may or may not be in labor.  "Don't rush home.  Just thought I'd let you know."

He told me to lie down once I got home.  Relax.  Breathe deeply.  Let the kids watch a movie or something.  He was going to finish things up at work and come home.

Two hours later, Jeremy still wasn't home.  The cramping/contractions were about three minutes apart.  And I'd been lying flat on my back the whole time.

I called Jeremy again.  He was driving home.  I called my friend Trina who told me to call my doctor.  My doctor's answering machine told me to go straight to the hospital if I thought I was in labor, and the hospital would let him know that I was there.  The trouble was, it didn't feel like labor.  At least, not like the labor I'd had with Liberty.  (Mercy was a scheduled C-section, so I never had labor with her.)  I wasn't sure what to do.  Trina called me back to see what was happening.  I filled her in, and she volunteered to watch Liberty and Mercy while I went to the hospital.  The only problem was, she was out of town for the next hour or longer.  I called my friend Michelle who lives two houses away.  She was also out of town, but would be back in about fifteen minutes which was perfect because the girls had time to pack their overnight bags, I had time to chat with them about the plan for the evening, and Jeremy had time to arrive home from work.

We told the girls that it MIGHT be time for the baby to be born, and we were going to go see the doctor so he could help.  If it was time, they would get to sleep over at Michelle's house, but if it wasn't time, the doctor would tell us to go back home, and they would come back home to sleep here.  Either way, it was a win for them because they would get to spend the evening playing with their friend Stephen who is Michelle's son.  They were so excited, and they rushed off to pack their overnight bags.

*Note to self: I need to get a special bag prepared for them in case this happens unexpectedly again.

Jeremy arrived.  Michelle arrived.  The kids left, and Jeremy, the baby and I got into the car.

It took several hours, but the nurse and doctor at the hospital determined that I was not in actual labor.  I was dehydrated to the point that my body was mimicking labor -- with real contractions and everything.  These were not Braxton Hicks.  They were the real thing.  The only difference was the labor hormone was not being secreted, so I was not dilating. 

So, my mission -- and I choose to accept it -- is not to vomit any more.  Thus ensuring that I do not dehydrate that badly again.  I'm on a strong prescription that seems to be helping.  And I'm drowning this poor baby in water. 

Seriously, if I never have to drink another glass of water again, I will be so happy.