So TBone and I are heading to the Birthing Center for the fourth time in under 48 hours. Thursday night was breast feeding class, Friday morning our 35 week appointment (at which I spontaneously broke out into tears) and then after getting to the beach yesterday to enjoy my first seasonal leg sunburn and some pizza I realized I was having about 8 Toni Braxton contractions an hour. Gazelle the midwife said to chug some aqua and take a nap on the beach. Done.
An hour later and seven+/- contractions later (and two slices each from the boardwalk) we were back in the car for our third trip to get checked out.
Gazelle hooked us up to the monitor where we were able to watch a printout of Fancy's heart rate (his/her first art work!) And my contractions come and go. Everything was intact for my first internal (it's as fun as it sounds and I'm pretty sure she needs a manicure) and while we were at it, we took my strep B test (same as a throat culture 'cept on the other end...and not exactly the same kind of gagging.) She sent us packing with some fun instructions: 3-4oz of wine and laying on the couch. Oh yea, and now they're not sure about my due date. BHa!
So...another 12 hours later and countless Toni Braxtons- we're heading back for another internal to make sure nothing has changed.
Maybe Fancy is just rearranging furniture.
This Spring has been the perfect storm so why wouldn't I have preterm labor symptoms...
I think I'll name Fancy Funky Bunch as a tribute.
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