The first, and hopefully last, of the false alarms

Last night, I really and truly thought I was in labour.

I spent yesterday afternoon out running errands, hopping from store to store, trying to take care of some upcoming stuff (e.g. Easter Bunny shopping) while it's still convenient to do so. I followed that up with a walk downtown to run some more errands. By the time I got home from my walk I was decidedly uncomfortable, and it wasn't long after that that the contractions started in earnest. Not only were they a lot stronger than what I'd had earlier in the week, but they were also consistent (every ten minutes) and long (a minute or so), and all signs seemed to point the same way.

After a couple of hours of this, we started running around making last minute arrangements. I finished packing my bags and Liam's, and charged the camera batteries, while Chad took care of getting this week's garbage and recycling ready to go, and then headed into work to wrap some stuff up and leave instructions for a big monthly meeting he was on the hook for today. We gave Chad's parents the heads up that we might need to call them in the wee hours of the morning to come stay with Liam, and Chad called his boss to say he might not be in today.

Well.

I'm sure you can tell by now... none of this stuff actually happened.

By this time it was close to 10 p.m., and the contractions started to die down. Faced with the choice of either getting some rest or going for a few laps around the block to get things moving, I decided to lie down and sleep while I could. I fully expected not to make it through the night. Surprise! At 6 a.m. Liam came toddling into our room and climbed into bed with us, and I realized that not only had I made it through the night, but there was absolutely nothing going on anymore.

*sigh*

Nothing happening today, either, even though I tried my best by dragging Liam out this morning to get a haircut, go to the library, and hit the mall... also all on foot.

So I guess my guess of the 21st will come and go with nothing to show for it. My new guess is the 23rd. Not only is that Chad's guess (and preference - if it happened on a Friday night, he'd have a solid week off work afterwards), but Chad's birthday is the 3rd, Liam's is the 13th, mine is the 30th... all we're missing is the 23rd.

In the meantime, I have mixed feelings. Aside from being on pins and needles, I am both enjoying this last little bit of time with Liam as an only, and finding it incredibly frustrating. Today we watched for school buses out the window (living around the corner from a high school, there's probably one going by every 20 seconds in the morning), discussed the plight of our snowman (the only remaining trace of snow on our lawn), I dodged questions about the squirrel sleeping on the neighbour's lawn (he was hit by a car several days ago, and he's still out there), and we waited with great anticipation for the garbage truck to come. I really enjoy these little conversations that provide so much insight into what makes Liam tick. On the other hand... every time I eat something, I'm thinking, Is this going to come back to haunt me later? ...since I was a big-time puker with my first labour, and fully expect it this time around, too.

I have an appointment with Dr. Bailey this afternoon. We'll see what she has to say.