Last Friday, we managed to get into a house last minute and take a looksie around. It made me dance in the kitchen. ;) It is not exactly what we imagined or hoped for, but I think it will work out nicely for the way that we use our space.
(I do find it rather sad that when we spoke to the neighbor across the street she stressed that the home would be too small for us, because she felt her home that was a little bigger was too tight with three children. It's the American way, huh? More, more, more.)
And then we saw a house where we'd never be able to get up the driveway in the snow or rain. We barely got to it during the summer and it needs massive amounts of work.
The price range we are in is so funny. You see all kinds of things apparently.
The weekend was pretty low key. Saturday Brandon worked, Sunday we went to church and celebrated Father's Day and then Monday we went to Lowes.
Apparently, I cannot walk Lowes without stirring up a bunch of contractions. It happened the last time I went but I drank a ton of water and was able to ward them off. This time, it just didn't work.
After about an hour of contractions every 3-5 minutes like clockwork, I got in a warm bath and after that a shower. But it didn't help. Bran called my OB's number and another doctor was on call. He was very short with me and said, "Well, I guess you need to come in." And then hung up! He hung up before I could tell him it may take awhile since we live 45 minutes away (on a good day with little traffic.)
We made arrangements for the children and headed in. The hospital was ridiculous. No one bothered to see if I had a UTI causing my contractions, no one ran labs and no one even checked to see what was going on. In fact, a doctor never saw me, only two poorly informed residents...
The next morning they decided I had made progress but the resident told me it didn't matter because I had had three babies. And then they discharged me. Never saw a real doc or even an OBGYN resident.
Brandon was furious and I was exhausted. We figured out that I slept about 11 minutes broken into 2 minute segments between the monitors being adjusted, having to go to the restroom and contractions.
Later that morning we found a new to us OBGYN. One that would see me within an hour if I could get to his office in that time. I also found out that I had been misled and I CAN deliver at the closest hospital here. (Before I was told that they could not care for a preterm baby and we'd be separated. This is true until 28/29 weeks, but I am past that.)
Things have settled down since then, but the dilation won't go backwards, so I'm literally on pins and needles waiting to see what happens. I'm resting in knowing that God knows Isaiah's birthday and that he is big enough that he would most likely do well and just need some assistance. It still hurts to think about things in terms of "odds" and the thought of leaving Isaiah in a hospital to come home sends me into sobbing fits.
Little Isaiah sure likes to keep us on our toes. But we still love him, to the moon and back times infinity.