By the time all of the discharge paperwork was filled out, nearly every restaurant was closed. We went through the drive-through at Wendy's, and I ate my hamburger in the car. I tried to eat some fries once we got home, but I was too tired. I fell asleep around midnight.
Sunday, July 9, had me jolting awake around 6:00 AM with the worst back pain I'd ever had. I tried walking around the house and stretching, but nothing helped. I finally climbed into the shower and put the water on as hot as I could stand. That felt better for a while, but I knew I couldn't stay in there. I tried every trick in my pregnancy book to either get the pains to progress or go away, but they didn't budge. I walked, laid down, used a heating pad, changed positions, but the pains never changed. According to my book, I was experiencing false labor. But at 9 days overdue, I wanted it to be real. I kept track of the contractions throughout the day. I called the doctor's office and the hospital, and they both said that the contractions needed to be 5 minutes apart for 1 hour before I should go to the hospital. They stressed that I shouldn't eat or drink in case I suddenly went into a fast labor. I obeyed them for the most part, but I did eat a plate of spaghetti because it was the only thing that had sounded good to me during my hospital stay. Sunday came and went with my contractions never reaching the magic ratio. Instead, they came and went sporadically everywhere from 7-20 minutes.
Around 4:00 AM Monday, July 10th, I was going on less that one night's sleep over the past 5 nights. Aside from a burger and spaghetti, my last meal was lunch on Wednesday. I was tired, hungry, and grumpy. I woke DH up and told him that we were going to the hospital. By then, I didn't care what the books and the people on the phone had said; I wanted to be told face-to-face if I was indeed in false labor. DH was certain that we would be sent back home. He wisely decided to listen to the sleep-deprived pregnant woman though, and off we went to the hospital.
When we arrived at the hospital, the woman at the desk didn't seem the least bit concerned about my plight. She carried on several phone conversations before she told us that we could go back. A nurse's aide showed us to a small room and told us to wait for a nurse. We had waited so long in the waiting room that we were now at the change of shifts, which meant that we would wait quite some time to see a nurse.
Once a nurse did check me, she said that I was almost at a 1. I was so distraught that I wanted to cry. A part of me was sure that I would be checked and everyone would be surprised at how much I had progressed. Being nearly a 1 meant that I still had a long ways to go. Since I was supposed to be admitted for an induction in a few hours anyway, the doctor told the nurse to go ahead and admit me. DH and I called our parents, and I knew that this time, I would leave the hospital with a baby.