Wednesday, 22 April 2009
Boo to Braxton Hicks
All the baby books warn you about "false" labour, namely something called Braxton-Hicks contractions. Bah, I thought. I won't have fake labour. I'll know when it's the real thing. I'm no dummy!
Turns out fake contractions aren't anything to scoff at at 2:30 in the morning when you're starting to wonder if you should wake up your snoring husband, stuff your assembled hospital gear into the suitcase and hightail it for Waterloo.
Before diving into full mommy-alert mode, I crept downstairs and pored over the baby books and our Baby Class hand outs. Neko was happy to see me, even though it was the middle of the night, and kept me company as I tried to decide whether a call to the hospital was warranted. Apart from back and abdomen discomfort, I didn't have any of the other symptoms of labour so I made an executive decision and decided to wait it out. But not before D woke to discover me missing from bed and came thundering downstairs to demand if I was all right. Poor man.
Thankfully, the pains subsided and I'm fine this morning. But it was good practice for the REAL THING...whenever that should happen. Kind of like a dress rehearsal (except I wasn't wearing much). I'm perfectly happy for baby to come, but if I had a choice, I'd like to wait a wee bit longer before making the frantic dash to the hospital...at least until after my two weeks of vacation are over!