Crying wolf, and then just... crying.

I've been eating pineapple to get this baby moving, and though I never believe in anything that could be classified as a "wives tale", I think the excitement and anxiety about Numero Dos had me scrutinizing every little symptom.  Yesterday, I had some progression in those things they tell you to watch for, and then this morning, more signs (I'll spare you), so I called the doctor to see if this all warranted a check-up.

They told me to pack my hospital bag and come on in where they'll verify if I can indeed proceed to delivery!  I hate getting ahead of myself, but the thought that it was finally happening got me kind of excited.  (Remember, this is all COMPLETELY new to me since we knew Lucy would be a C-section early on.)

Now, after a morning on the monitor, various tests, and a mental roller coaster - I was told it's a false alarm and to go home, and continue to wait.  No big deal right?  I few more days to get all these ducks neatly in their rows.

What I didn't expect is that I'd feel so deflated after the false alarm.  If you don't know me personally, let me tell you that I am weirdly even keel. Freaking out, panicking, getting upset - not my thing, and I rarely let the pregnancy hormones rock my boat.  But today, I came home and went straight for the macaroons, mochi ice cream, and needed to lay down.  I think this Mopey McGee is freaking out Nat and Lucy...

Snapping out of it thankfully; however I THINK I'M READY. Let's do this little guy, before I go FURTHER INTO THE CRAZIES...