Yesterday I ended up in the hospital with early contractions. I basically felt like I needed a couple Advil 'cause it was the same kind of sensation as bad menstrual cramps. At first, I was reluctant to go to the doc, thinking I was probably imagining it. When you're pregnant -- at least for me -- it's hard to figure out what's normal and what should be alarming. I mean, are these Braxton Hicks contractions? Is it just my uterus expanding? Or am I about to give birth to two super premature babies and have my life come crashing down around me?
In the end, I'm reassured that some sort of instinct kicked in. I was not feeling quite right and I knew it. Of course, I had to have a mini meltdown in the bathroom at work before finally calling the doctor's emergency line. But I got it done. Go Mama!
And there are some up sides: I got a preview of the hospital, which is kind of swanky and private and lovely. The nurses were sweet. My hubby came and got me and took good care of me. And I learned I need to pee more. Don't hold it in, they told me. And of course most important of all, my little floaties (as we call the twins), are safe and healthy.
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