May 27, 2007

baby name change and those dratted Stover genes

Tone informed me yesterday that he wasn't so sold on the name Oliver anymore. So I'm glad the baby wasn't born last week, or it may have been saddled with a name that Tone now isn't as thrilled with. Now he wants Connor. So after nine months of one name, we have a last minute switcharoo. Fine with me. My mom and Rick are pretty happy with that. Actually they hated Oliver so they are thrilled. People either loved or hated the name. But Connor is a little more common and normal, so I think it's better. The girl name Ainsley is still a go though. We are set on that.
And speaking of not being born last week, I don't think I have a hope and a prayer of ever going into labor on my own (or at least early). Therefore, I can plan the C-section. Stover genes = big baby with big heads that never get born. I am pretty sure this is another big one with another big head. The round head shape was pretty clear to me on the last ultrasound. Yep, we are the family of fat heads where the mothers dread the thought of labor. But Stover wives don't have to worry about labor because we don't go into it anyways. the babies are too big and fat. The babies have to be forced out one way or another. So my sisters, and Christin....be afraid....I married the tiniest man on earth. If anyone had a prayer of having small children, it was me. Apparently those Stover genes are very strong!

May 2, 2007

I swore I would never cry wolf and did

I swore I wouldn't be one of those over eager women who go to the hospital a million times because they can't tell real labor from the fake. Yeah, so I went to the hospital today and was sent home. I swore I was going into labor. Six weeks early no less. Did I have regular contractions? Did I have major cramping? Yes, yes, yes. For twelve hours and all the way to the hospital. What happens the second I get hooked up to the monitors? It goes away for a whole hour. They sent me home. There was nothing happening worth speaking of.
What happens when I get back home? It comes back. Will I be going back? NOOOOO. Too embarrassing. I'll wait until my water breaks or something or the contractions get super strong. I love the guess-work here. Yuck. I either want to be in labor or not. This just stinks. I don't know what's up. I hope this guess work doesn't go on for weeks. The suspense will kill me. At least the nurses believed me. They told me I must have been dehydrated (which I don't even know how that could happen with the amount I drink lately.) On another note, I could definately tell the baby dropped this morning. I was walking fine last night, and this morning, the best I could do was waddle, because I could feel it's little head very low.