By the time we walked to the hospital I was pretty glad that we'd decided to go in. The contractions were a minute and a half apart, lasted for a minute (which means a thirty second break between them) and were far from the cute "oh look a practice contraction" type.
We've been here for a couple hours now, being monitored. The Boy looks good. I'm having contractions even when laying down.
This is it, right? I mean, the doctor said he wants me here for any and all contractions because that's the only way they'll agree to let me try a VBA2C (hence coming in, for anyone who wondered why I was considering it, albeit reluctantly, so early...).
Um... nope. It looks like I'm going home. There are contractions. They are real contractions according to the monitor. They feel real. They're pretty constant. But it's crowded and my doctor isn't here and I'm progressing slowly. So I'm waiting to be released to go home to wait for them to tell me to come back so that they can break my water. Even without the water breaking I think, at this point in labor, leaving probably means coming back in the very near future (this happened with Sadie and Mae... with Mae I was sent home and told I wasn't in labor and I was holding her about 18 hours later and that was with those icky contraction killing drugs slowing things way, way down).
It seems a little silly. But at the same time, I'm kind of relieved because we headed over without eating lunch (which was dumb) and I'm starving right now and starting this whole thing on an empty stomach does not seem like a particularly good idea.
I'll keep posting updates. It seems like Patrick is going to be here very soon. But I think I get one more trip home before that happens!