FALSE ALARM

On Saturday of our Memorial Day Weekend, we had a wonderful time as a family. We got some yard work done in the morning, saw Shrek 3 before noon, played soccer at the park, and then Kristen's contractions began. For 3 hours they were coming every 5-7 minutes.

We calmly prepared burgers on the grill, packed bags, got the boys prepped, made arrangements for the dog - basically tied up all the loose ends we hadn't been planning on just yet. The boys were dropped with Meme and Grumpa, and we were off to the Hospital by about 7:30pm. I was calling for a dark-haired daughter by midnight.

Unfortunately, as soon as Kristen was admitted to the Labor and Delivery Triage, the contractions stopped. So almost 4 hours of nonstop, hard contractions (Kristen was pretty out of breath) and then nothing. Dr Gipson - who when returning Kristen's page, greats me on the phone with a, "Hi Nick, it's Sheri" We seriously love her - checked everyting out and sent us home, but not before reassuring Kristen that, "I've got all these degrees, and even I was sent home with mine, so don't feel bad."

I don't think it was a matter of feeling bad, as much as it was feeling annoyed that she wasn't having this little girl yet. Not to mention the latest kidney stone(s?) that are making the continued pregnancy what I can only imagine to be unbearable. So feeling let down, we went back to get the boys and break the news, that their baby sister wasn't ready to come out and play just yet.

So we're still on baby-watch here. There's 3 and a half more weeks until the official due date. We were spoiled with the boys who came 3 and 3 and a half weeks early (at 6-11 and 7-7 respectively). If this little girl kicks it off like a diva and keeps us waiting, it's going to be a long remaining 23 days...