Day #279 of pregnancy...

I awoke this morning at 3:00AM with rather aggravating pain around my middle and lower back moving its way toward my belly... yes, it was annoying and enough so that I laid there tossing back and forth for awhile. By about 4:00AM, the contractions were to a point that I knew I should begin timing them to see what was up - so I awoke Kyle and had him hold the clock while I coached my way through a few... usually HE coaches but in such a haze I knew he'd be better suited to simply hold a clock and call out the time as I saw fit. So there we were for about 45 minutes - me, awake and rocking back and forth on all fours... Kyle, asleep except for every 7-8 minutes when I yelled rather forcibly, "Kyle... Kyle... KYLE! (shaking him by this point) TIME PLEASE!"

After this interaction with my not-so-awake husband, I decided that I would rather walk around the house and talk to myself and allow him the sleep he would need to carry me through the rest of the day if this baby was on his way. I climbed out of bed, had a bowl of cereal, walked back and forth, watched horrible early morning television and did whatever I could to stay comfortable. When I realized the contractions were rather consistently 6-10 minutes apart and lasting 90 seconds or so, I went back to bed to try and get some shut-eye with the assistance of a dose of Benadryl. Within no time the Benny kicked in and I was out cold - for an hour.

I awoke to Katie calling for me - to try to describe it the best way I can I would say that I quickly awake to something but I'm never quite sure why, or how, I awoke. I rarely remember audibly hearing anything, in fact. But my heart is stirred and my motherly instincts shift into high-gear. In the silence and whirr of the fan in her room I again hear this calm, tiny, well-rested voice calling from the far corner of her bed, "Mommy... Mommy..." and once in awhile it is followed by a few lines of jibberish that is most likely directed at Geoffrey the Giraffe or Baby - both of whom sleep close to her each night. They're probably discussing how their sleep was... if they feel rested... what they dreamt about... and how Mommy will be in in just a moment to change everyone's diapers and carry them out to the kitchen where she will prepare toast to eat. That's what I assume they talk about anyway...

This morning, though, it was Kyle's job. HE was the one that got to rest so HE would be the one up and at 'em to retrieve our daughter from the invisible clutches of her toddler bed. (She's not allowed to crawl out on her own - merely for the purpose of keeping her corralled at all times and not wanting to fight the fight of keeping her out of OUR bed in the middle of the night. It has worked very well.) Kyle brought Katie in to join us as we slowly rose out of our sleep... and then it hit me! DAMNIT, THE CONTRACTIONS HAVE SUBSIDED AND I'M STILL PREGNANT! Yes, I do believe I cursed... maybe even cried.

In any case, it was a good thing there was no baby today. A dear friend of mine, who is 6.5 months pregnant, had some rather serious medical difficulties today - all of which are under control and Mom and Baby (still in the womb) are at home healthy and 'ok' - and Kyle and I took care of her son for the day while she and her husband spent the day in the ER. We went from Evergreen Hospital ER to McDonalds to Ballard and back home for naps - EVERYONE took a nap! It was wonderful! We all awoke, had a snack, welcomed Riley's Mom and Dad back home and then began winding down for the night. We had dinner together, the kids had their baths and then they went on home while I laid Katie down for bed. Now, Kyle and I sit once again, anticipating my weekly doctor's appointment scheduled for tomorrow morning at 9:45AM... hopefully I will get to cancel as I will be in the hospital already.

I should stop talking such craziness. I'll see Dr. Frankwick tomorrow and she'll remind me that she doesn't induce until I'm 7-14 days late unless there are extenuating medical concerns. I wonder if insanity counts.

Nesting instinct... really?!

Was the person who created the concept of "nesting instinct" ever pregnant? Did they understand that the last few weeks of cleaning your house like a maniac has nothing to do with cleanliness but instead has to do with the absolute insanity that you find yourself in? They say that you're "term" at 37 weeks, but one should NEVER begin anticipating the arrival of their child at that point. NEVER.

Just because the floors have been swept and swiffered, mopped and laundered, the office has been re-organized, the front yard has been mowed, the driveway's been swept clean, the car's been cleaned thoroughly... more than once, the backyard is now completely void of any plant life it previously held (the extra "stuff" was driving me crazy) and the refrigerator was carefully pieced back together after being anti-bacterialized doesn't mean I have an unnatural desire for cleanliness. No. This is rather evidence of insanity than it is a calm, beautiful, "nesting instinct" that has increasingly taken over my life the last 3 weeks. Ask my husband.

If I don't go into labor tonight or awaken in absolute surprise from a "broken water balloon" in my bed tonight, I'm sure Kyle and I will find a way to indulge in my state of insanity tomorrow as it is his day off. I'll keep you up to date on what our next project is... I'm starting to see visions of sod laid in our backyard and pool-fencing stretching across the first terrace; I'm seeing visions of all the trim being completed and doors being hung in order to complete the remodel on our house; I'm seeing visions of a few more weekly OB/GYN appointments prior to this child's arrival and unfortunately, most of these visions are concluded with a picture of a very prune-like, 12 lb. baby boy in my arms as I sit exhausted in a hospital room screaming "FINALLY!" ...


...yet, at that point I can't figure out if I'd like to shoot the 12 pounder out and deal with the work and immediate consequences OR spend the following 4 weeks recovering from a cesarean section.

I'm due in 2 days and I'm hoping that this kid comes 'early'... therefore, hopefully tonight will be the night. We'll keep you posted.

Levitra...

The fact that a possible side effect of this widely used drug is that you may have an erection for longer than 4 hours concerns me. First of all, the concept of having an erection for that long due to a substance you ingested into your body is scary in and of itself and should make any man run in the other direction... but secondly, the fact that the folks who promote this drug don't explain that an erection lasting 2 hours should be of concern... maybe once you hit 3 hours?! There are actually people out there who will wait the entire 4 hours before seeking medical attention and I think that we either need to begin coralling these folks and not allowing them to procreate or we need to save our breath and let the saying "survival of the fittest" ring true.

Despite the posted by name, this is Krista speaking.

No baby yet...

This has been a challenging few weeks and we continue to wait...

It is currently 10:45PM on Wednesday evening, March 22nd, and I am once again staring down the shoot at my weekly doctor's appointment scheduled for tomorrow at 9:45AM. I hope each Thursday when I leave the OB/GYN office that the following week's appointment will be null and void by the time it arrives because I will either be in the hospital having a baby or Kyle and I will be at home recovering with baby in tow.

I promise to try and blog as soon as our son arrives. I appreciate the thoughts and prayers of all our family and friends... I can't wait to share this little guy.

FYI: Official due date is NEXT Thursday, March 30th.

What is "church"? ... and other thoughts...

Recently, I have found myself progressively more challenged, almost burdened, with the concept of "church". The large Sunday morning gatherings are becoming less and less impressive to me if they are not, first and foremost, accompanied with the truth that "church" should just as easily be happening at your home and in your neighborhood around you as it is from 10:00 - 11:00AM Sunday mornings. It could be argued that most churches talk to this concept of church done at home - yet, and I ask you to be honest with yourself, is the congregation really doing it? I've witnessed a serious categorizing of home life and church life even amongst some of my closest friends. The 'awe of God' is gone and we have, in our personal lives, morphed Him into a predictable, limitable, and flexible God - which He is not. I swing from one end of the pendulum - enabling these behaviors - to the other end - desiring to hatefully, and without remorse, 'skin' these Christians of all their false fronts only to leave them beaten and bloody and full of disdain towards me. In the midst of finding the appropriate tension between these two spectrums, I wrestle with the uneasiness of not knowing what I feel God is calling us to. When I say 'us', I mean Christians as a whole as well as Kyle and I personally.

In my struggle with the categorizing between daily life and spirituality, I have been confronted with a continuum of events that has only furthermore given me clarity in living the Christian life and this idea of 'church'. Within the past few days Kyle has turned down an opportunity to be on the pastoral staff of a large and steadily growing church in the area while at the same time we have struggled with an aversion to a proposal that has been presented at our current church. Both of these options, were I to go into more detail, look so 'promising' to the person who is sitting back assuming that God is NOT moving and is about to reveal His provision. And to that perspective, I'd like to call 'bullshit'. To clarify, this perspective is almost as natural to us as breathing. We do not find ourselves, even Christians, swerving to miss the miracles happening all around us, thinking of communicating with a Higher Power to make even the largest of life's decisions, or even questioning the purpose of our presence on this earth. No, instead, we see what's in front of us... the alarm clock to arouse us, the kids, the house, the boss - and quite often, what we have to look at in our lives is 'not enough'. Therefore, we are in a constant state of WANT and that WANT begins to taint our perspective of what God's provision is. Or on the contrary, when we begin to attain time, wealth, health, etc., we consider that God's 'provision' for us - and I would have to say that, although it sounds as though I'm "splitting hairs", I would rather think of these things as God's blessings, above and beyond his provision.

God's PROVISION has already been established in his Son. Our ability to commune with the Living God whenever we want and the ability to choose Him as the Savior (He is the only reason we have hope in life) and Lord (He is the only thing that is Truth in this life and should be revered as such) of our life IS the provision of our Heavenly Father. As for daily provision... as for worldly provision... as for finite happenstances that we need God's help with, yes, He is there. And yes, He cares. Kyle and I have seen a continuous flow of money come in from one thing or another allowing us the opportunity to pay our bills, feed our family, get our car serviced, etc. For the ability to make ends meet, we give God glory - yet were we not able to pay for our bills; were we not able to get the car serviced and therefore found ourselves on the side of I-5 with a toddler in the backseat; were we not able to make up for financial mistakes that we've made in the past - I would not dare shake my fist at the God of the Universe and claim that His provision is lacking. Yes, I would cry. Yes, I would wrestle with living in this world and living amongst all the expectations this world delivers to my doorstep every morning of every day. Yes, I would question. But would I claim that God is not providing for me? No. Would I claim that He is not moving? No.

This God that I speak of is present and actively working amongst His creation. He is offering to partner with us. Yet due to our inability to clear our conscience for a second, a minute, a day - we miss it and are quick to find fulfillment elsewhere. I bet that if we stopped and began a journey of seeking the Living God, we could live in a smaller house and be around more often... we could drive the '85 Toyota that we just sent to the wrecking yard instead of exchanging it for a $375.00 car payment... we could rent a house without the daily concern that we're not being 'wise' with our finances... we could leave the house dirty and go to the park with the kids... and God forbid, we could give up the 2-3 weekly bible studies that we're a part of at our local church and instead have our neighbors over for dinner - he cusses like a sailor, she smokes like a chimney and they're not married, by the way.

Am I making ANY sense? Am I getting through on any level? As I struggle with the idea of being a part of an established church with it's own doctrinal statement and membership hoops to jump through, I also struggle with the lack of accountability that comes with not having ANY hoops. You've got the church-goers smoking in the hallways and drinking at the Small Groups in some kind of rebellion against the traditional North American church. This is just as detrimental. And therefore, I war with the concept of church and am trying, in humility, to seek the most beneficial way of glorifying God in community, commitment and accountability to one another.

A couple of months ago, Doxa (our home church), decided to kick the prayer movement of the church into high-gear. Most churches have a 'prayer ministry', this is true. But we decided to go from a ministry that you COULD get involved in, if you so desired, to a calling that everyone SHOULD be involved in. Five pieces of paper were handed to each person. You were to write your name on each piece of paper then move from your comfy pew and begin praying for God to reveal to you who was supposed to pray for you during the coming week. You approached each of these people individually and asked, "(Name), will you pray for me this week?" Uncomfortable? Yes. Humbling? Yes. Enriching? Yes.

A place for the 'non-christian'? Absolutely not.

I have decided in my own heart that the cultural idea of 'church' - Saturday/Sunday services involving worship from the stage and words from the pulpit - is NOT for the non-believer. I have yet to attack the entire Word of God with regards to this idea, but have begun seriously seeking some foundation for what my spirit is telling me. In reading through Acts, I have become more and more aware of the personal ministry being done in neighborhoods and on street corners as opposed to the temple. The temple is where the 'believers' gathered -- it is where the 'non-believers' came AFTER they became believers on the streets of the city! The street is where the ministry was happening! My heart longs for, and the bible continues to affirm my desires, that church should be where we can gather in aweful worship to the Living God, seek genuine prayer, talk openly about pornography addiction, abortion, and alcoholism and other diseases without the weight of whether or not we've offended someone. My desire is to reach a place of authentic communication amongst the believers so that we can be a network of support as we reach the community around us. THIS is what I want for 'church' and I'm beginning to believe that God is calling Kyle and I to something not unlike what my heart is screaming for.

I cannot sit back and assume a restful position as of yet, these are simply thoughts that knock around in my head day-in and day-out and fine-tuning is needed - likely up to the moment I see God's glory for myself. Please know that my heart simply dreams of something different then what I'm seeing at the neighborhood churches around me... I long for Katie to know and understand the stories of God through interaction with the kid down the street as opposed to the felt-board stories of Sunday school... I dream that the prayer I pray over her every night - that God would continue to reveal His love, His grace, and His spirit to my daughter - would become such a tangible experience for her amongst this anti-supernatural culture she lives in that she will be SHOCKED that not everyone sees it...

Oh... am I naive? You wonder why I can't just be pleased that non-christians are walking through the doors of a church and are about to interact with people who will love and accept them. You wonder why it can't be that you should be praised for inviting your neighbor to church - "what guts that takes!", you say. But I beg you to see it differently. See your home as the place for ministry - don't use the church building as a scapegoat to not be seeking the Living God on a daily basis and instead leave it up to the pulpit and whoever's behind it on Sunday... see yourself as the teacher, the pastor, the priest and recognize your personal priesthood when it comes to sharing God's grace, love, forgiveness, and acceptance. And one thing more, walking through the doors of a church is no 'accident'. There's no reason to dumb-it-down for the non-christians! Pray out loud, let church go longer than an hour and read the Word verbatim if need be! The newcomers will not be shocked... in fact, they will most likely be relieved - seeing as the last 3 churches they've visited began with a puppet-show and ended with a secular song but provided no Truth. They've needed to know who to talk to about the affair, who to run to instead of the addiction, who to lean on for accountability and who to talk to about the consequences of a decision they are about to make...

Let God move.

Transition...

Just yesturday evening Katie and I took time to simply be together and play. She raced around in her pajamas with footies, freshly bathed and sipping on her milk - all the 'usuals' before she and I retire to the nursery where we rock a little, sing a LOT, and pray a little before putting her down for bed. At this point in my pregnancy with our son I am happy to humor Katie as she entertains me because it usually consists of me being commanded to sit down (an emphatic "dah!" from Katie as she motions for me to sit "down" - hence, the "dah!") wherever it is that she would prefer for me to sit. Yesturday evening it happened to be the rocking chair in the nursery -- ahhh... nothing better... I can do this.

Katie wanted to get into her crib and play so I hopped up from my comfy spot and tossed her in playfully. She proceeded to entertain me with all the 'tricks of the trade' her friend, Riley, had been teaching her this week... jumping like a mad woman on the crib mattress, falling backwards numerous times onto her backside and then laying back only to roll over by kicking her legs up close to her head and rolling herself onto her knees only to do the same thing all over again... and last of all, she was anxious to show me her NEWEST maneuver, climbing out of the crib.

I couldn't believe it.

As she teetered on the crib railing looking at me with a smirk, a laugh, and lastly, a desire for approval and praise, I couldn't hold in my laughter. It was awesome and adorable all at the same time -- and what fun! She was having a blast! And if it was necessary for her to continue sleeping in her crib, I would have needed to surpress my joy in the moment and look the other way to not draw any attention to the behavior. But on the contrary, I laughed, grabbed her before she toppled to her death and exclaimed, "there's no better time than the present for you to start sleeping in your BIG GIRL bed!" She looked at me a bit confused all the while saying with utmost confidence, "yeah!" (She says that a lot to be agreeable - sometimes without any idea of what she is agreeing to...).


I began the transition. Sheets were changed, Geoffrey the Giraffe, Avocado the Frog, Duck-Duck and 'Meow' were moved from the crib to the toddler bed, the fan was moved up high so that she wouldn't be in harms way were she to crawl out and walk around without us knowing, the space heater was moved further from her bedside and all odds and ends were picked up off the floor. We were ready...

We rocked and sang. We summed it all up with a prayer for rest, comfort and protection throughout the night and then she was laid down. She looked around, grabbed Geoffrey the Giraffe and closed her eyes. Done. I walked out and closed the door. As a smile slowly spread across my lips, I walked down the hallway and quickly racked my brain of people I could call to share the exciting news!

2:00AM... "THUD!" Kyle and I awoke suddenly to the sound of Katie hitting the hardwood floor in the next room. It was quickly followed by a sad and confused cry for "Mamaaaa...". As I opened her bedroom door, there she sat. The light from the hallway spilled across the floor to find her sitting erect, hair tossled and alligator tears streaming down her face. It took every ounce of strength I had not to laugh out of pure love - there was no blood and she wasn't even all that upset considering her circumstances! I crouched down, lifted her up, and hugged her. (I don't believe she was even awake at the moment.) I softly laid her back down and pulled her blanket to her chin. She looked at me, turned her head and closed her eyes... peaceful, once again. She slept until the morning.

Katie has now slept 1.5 nights and 1 nap in her BIG GIRL bed. It's so much fun to discover what she is capable of. Next I'll be choking back tears as she holds her baby brother for the first time... oh boy, this is all so awesome.

Soon we'll do "this" again...

(Photo: Kyle and Catherine Elizabeth Schei - aka, "Katie" - September 19th, 2004)

For those of you who have read the previous post, I would like to follow it up with information from the 'doc'. I AM not, WAS not, and probably will not be for the next couple of days, in labor. Yes, when I sat facing her in the exam room and she gave me her diagnosis of what's going on, my heart fell for a split second. But then I was suddenly impacted by the reality of the situation. I would go home, take a shower, wait for my husband to get home from work, put Katie to bed, sit up watching TV with Kyle, maybe sip a glass of red wine, go to bed and anticipate the next day with Katie... all the NORMAL stuff that I do. Before I know it, I will be suddenly surprised by either intense pain in my abdomen and back OR a large gush of fluid making it's way down my legs and it will be at that moment that I jump for joy that my son is about to arrive! See, this week I went through that excitement already -- now, I'll get to experience that SAME anticipation all over again. Maybe high expectations ARE a good thing after all... :)


(Photo: Me, the evening before Catherine arrived, September 18th, 2004)

Thank you to everyone who has been thinking about our family during this time. We are very excited. *Above, I have shared one of my favorite photos of all time with you (it's rather vulnerable of me, actually, to let you see this one) -- Katie, only a few hours old, resting on her daddy's chest. I took this picture and will never forget the intensity of my emotions at that moment. Unexplainable.

Yep, we're doing this craziness again -- and it's the best decision we will have ever made.

Little Feet... Big Feat

Sunday, February 27th, 2006: I sensed a small leakage that I carefully evaluated and decided it was NOT amniotic fluid... "no, my water did not break. I will continue as usual and see what happens next." Nothing. Good. My younger brother, David, would be getting married the following weekend in Eastern Washington and I was not about to miss the wedding.

Monday, February 28th, 2006: The exact same sensation and I begin to wonder. This is the same thing that happened with Katie only 18 months ago when I was sure it was NOT my water breaking - but thanks to my husband, I called the on-call doctor, she asked me to come to the hospital to be examined, and sure enough, it was my water! Again, this was the scenario 18 months ago... on the contrary, it was not the scenario last Monday night.

My husband, once again, urged me to be cautious and call the on-call doctor and describe the situation. She asked me to come into the hospital to be examined. So we hopped in the car once our friend Jesseca arrived to watch Katie and tried to prepare ourselves for what may happen in the next 24 hours. I was admitted, dressed up in a drafty hospital gown and told to 'get comfortable' underneath airplane rate sheets and blankets. I did my best and sat back with Kyle to catch a few hours of cable television - eye candy. For example, American Chopper, Maternity Ward on TLC, some historical architecture & engineering show on Discovery Channel. We don't have cable at home and this was quickly becoming a luxurious hotel room once I became entrenched in the possibility of meeting my son, learning about Jesse James and his custom motorcycles, seeing beautiful birth stories and forgetting about the not so warm hospital room, thin bedding and sterile pillows.

It was not my water.

Monday, March 6th, 2006: We have arrived home safely from Eastern Washington with nothing but a few moments of intense pain. Nothing that a little bit of rest and relaxation wouldn't help. My brother Geoff and Jennifer drive home with Kyle, Katie and I on Sunday and decide to stay the night. Monday arrives and Kyle drives them to the airport on his way to work. Before he can get from the airport to work, I find myself crying on the kitchen floor while Katie wipes my tears with a tissue. She's a bit nervous as to why Mom is so upset yet does a wonderful job of playing role-reversal for a few moments before she sits on my lap and curls into my chest. The pain of either contractions, Braxton-Hicks, or simply strained ligaments is so intense that I cannot function. I was not capable at that moment of walking, let alone watching an 18 month old. I gathered myself together and called Kyle who then suggested that I call my friend, Jesseca, to come and get Katie so that I can rest. I do. She comes. Immediately. With her prompting, I call the doctor. I don't feel like I'm having contractions, but at the same time, I don't know if this pain is abnormal and Jesseca persuaded me that it is not something to gamble with. I agree and get on the phone.

They ask me to go to the hospital to be examined.

Kyle is on his way to the hospital from the South... Jesseca, Riley, Katie and I are on our way to the hospital from the North and the nurses are ready and waiting. This time, unlike last Monday, I'm taken to the newly remodeled end of the birthing center in assumption that my baby was coming and they'd have me there for a few days. When I was examined at 5:00PM, my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart, I was 50% effaced (thinning of the cervix) and not yet 1 centimeter dialated (you have to get to 10 centimeters before you have a baby). The on-call doctor gave me the 'ok' to go home or I could stay and get checked in a couple of hours to see if the contractions were effective contractions or simply Braxton-Hicks (false/practice/ineffective contractions). I wanted to go home. This was likely due to my inability to be patient and hear that the contractions were simply practice contractions and there was no telling when the baby would arrive between then and March 30th - my due date. Kyle was of a different perspective. He wanted to stay. I think he anticipated at the time that these were NOT just practice contractions and that the nurse would have positive results for us -- this baby was on his way!

At 7:00PM I was examined again. Woo-hoo! This time I was still having contractions 3-5 minutes apart and they were getting more painful as time passed, my cervix was now 80% effaced and I was at least 1 centimeter dialated! Thank goodness I stayed. It gave me hope! The doctor still gave me the go ahead to go home - yet this time it was followed with a dose of sleeping medicine to help me sleep easier through what would probably be 'active labor' come a few hours into the early morning and the prediction that I would be back in their care within the next 12-24 hours. We call the parents to tell them the news. My Mom, Dad and younger sister, Hannah, are packed and ready to go at the next call while Kyle's parents cut their road-trip short and drive immediately up from San Jose, California, only to arrive less than 24 hours later - ready and waiting.

That was 2 days ago and it has been a roller-coaster ride. Katie stayed Monday night at the Emerson's once Kyle and I realized that we'd probably be back at the hospital in the middle of the night. We were packed and ready to role at any moment...

Nothing. I woke up Tuesday morning to nothing more exciting than the realization that it was 7:45AM and there was no little girl calling 'Mama!' from the other room. I was frustrated and rather discouraged - but not without hope that if I cleaned the entire house this baby would be on his way out in no time. 10:00AM rolled around... Noon... it was then that I called Jesseca and said to bring Katie home. I was going to go crazy waiting for labor to set in and I wanted life back to normal. Katie came home and took a nap - as did I... she and I went back over to Jesseca's in the afternoon while Kyle took a nap... I went grocery shopping on the way home and rented a movie to watch... we put Katie to bed... and continued our normal nightly routine of hanging out and watching some television interspersed with good conversation.

Tuesday night, early AM: I sit up quickly when I realize the pillow I had between my knees was drenched - completely drenched. I throw it on the floor and feel the bed. It's drenched. I wake Kyle up and ask him to turn on the light, 'quickly'! He exclaims, 'did your water break?!' He stared at the drenched sheets and pillow then looked me up and down. I tore off the boxers I had on and they were nothing more than very sweaty. My shirt looked as though I'd been through the shower fully dressed - but nothing else pointed towards my water breaking. Kyle and I scowled, I changed my clothes and climbed back into bed - in the least, hoping for a good night's sleep if not 'active labor'!

Wednesday, March 8th, 2006: It's Kyle's day off and he spends it struggling with the emotional roller-coaster happening within his own home while coping with a horrible head cold. We decide early on that we will act like it is yet another NORMAL day. We will get on the ferry to Bainbridge Island, borrow a friend's trailer, and go pick up a crib that we purchased in Poulsbo. As we drive to the ferry dock in Edmonds, I admit to Kyle that I'm a little bit nervous considering the state of my contractions and the amount of pain they are causing me. He quickly admits that he was feeling the same way but didn't want me to think that he thought he 'knew my body better than I do', and thus, went along with going to pick up the crib praying that we would not regret it in the end while going into labor going the WRONG WAY on a ferry across the Puget Sound. I reprimand him for holding it in while at the same time I sympathize with him because he was right... humbling how that works. He knows me well. We decide to call off the plans to pick up the crib - Kyle flips a u-turn and we are on our way back home.

We decide to go to Best Buy and Starbucks in an attempt to keep my mind occupied and my body moving - we were wanting to urge these contractions on! It worked! They were painful and close together yet once I sat down or relaxed, they subsided as well.

Wednesday night, 8:15PM: We are at home, Katie's in bed and I've dealt on and off with intense pains from contractions. Sometimes my back hurts and my tailbone feels as though it might pop right off - but like I said, it's not consistent intense pain and I do not feel the need to call the doctor concerning anything that my body's doing. I will go out and sit with Kyle and watch TV and keep my fingers crossed that my body simply decides on it's very own that TONIGHT IS THE NIGHT!

If not, I see the doctor for my regular prenatal check-up tomorrow at 9:45AM. At least I'll know something more than my body's choosing to tell me.