I went to the hospital again yesterday evening.
The good news: they let me go home that night.
The bad news: since they didn't admit me, my insurance apparently classifies it as an "emergency room" visit, and it is subject to the $150 ER copay. Lame.
This visit went much like I hoped the first one would. I got there, got monitored, got drugged, and the contractions slowed way down. My doctor is in Italy right now (good timing, right?) and the on-call doc from the partner practice was out of the hospital, so I was checked by a hospitalist (who really knows all the different kinds of doctors?) but I really liked her, so that worked out for me. (Especially since I'd heard less than good things about the on-call doc.)
The only other notable thing that happened was that she checked my cervix (sorry guys, you might want to skip this paragraph) and not only is it way softer and shorter than last time I was checked (which, granted, was a while ago), it's also dilated to a 3.5.
My body is definitely ready to kick these boys out. But it will be so much better for them to stay in another 2.5 to 4 weeks. (Not to mention better for my wallet.)
I was sent home with strict instructions to stay horizontal in bed (or on the couch) and not do ANYTHING other than get up to use the restroom until I had seen my doctor. But I'm guessing that's exactly what I'll be told at the doctor tomorrow. Especially since I'm still contracting.
That means at least two more weeks of Not. Doing. Any. Thing. No getting the kids breakfast (or lunch, or dinner). No changing diapers. No cooking. No cleaning. No laundry. No baby prep. No nothing. And while that sounds nice, it's really not. Something about not being able to do stuff makes it so much more desirable.
And laying down all the time makes for some seriously sore muscles.