Sharla has been visiting for this past week while Dave had to travel back to Houston for meetings. We had a fun time touring a few sights in the area, buying furniture, losing parking tickets, falling down, etc. Posts will be coming soon of our exploits...
If I'd only known Dave would call a few hours after her flight departed and say he has been delayed 3 more days, I wouldn't have let her get her on that flight. And I really would have restrained her if I'd have known I'd start having contractions a day later.
Last night about 4am I was awakened by pain. I wasn't sure it was contractions, and I didn't want to go to the hospital and try out my French word for "pain." I waited around a few hours, worried Dave sick with my phone calls, and waited some more. Plus, it was snowing outside.
Being alone here with Maya and the possibility of having a baby without Dave was a little unnerving. I finally decided after 8 hours of unrelenting pain to go to the hospital. I'm glad I did. I learned a few things. First, I WAS having contractions every 2 minutes. Second, the hospital I went to isn't equipped to handle preemie babies (I am about 32 weeks). Third, my doctor is an American who speaks English with NO French accent.
She advised Dave to get on the next flight home (secretly I am thrilled, but sorry he has to come back for this). If I can make it through this night, I pick him up tomorrow, and we go back to the hospital. They want to give me more steroids to strengthen the baby's lungs.
So meanwhile, I am trying to be on "bedrest" with a 2-year-old who isn't quite fond of the idea. Keep me in your prayers, I'll be needing them tonight.