And what happened was.... nothing.
The contractions were still stronger than earlier in the week, almost painful, even, but not progressing. Since I was already at a 4, I was told I could have an epidural whenever I wanted. I was planning on having one, so I figured I might as well get it in before the pain really started. The anesthesiologist came and got me all set up (though it took a couple of tries; it's amazing how much easier it is to hold still when you're not in severe pain) and they hooked me up to the pitocin.
Contractions started increasing and I progressed to a five. They had to stop the pit for an hour or so, because Morty's heart rate showed he wasn't a huge fan, but when they restarted it around 7:30 am, he was fine.
As long as I was on my left side, that is. As soon as I turned over to my back or right side, his heart rate would drop, or whatever it does to alarm the nurses, and back to left I would go.
Ice chips began getting old by about 11 am, but I was still at a 5, despite consistent, frequent, and apparently strong contractions. And I stayed at a 5 for much longer than I would have liked. Had I been in pain I would have cared a lot more, but as it was, it was mostly just an annoyance.
By 5 (or was it 5:30?) pm my doctor came in to break my water (finally! I'm sure that's all my body was waiting for) and I was all of a 6. Ten hours, and 1 centimeter was all I had to show for it.
That didn't last long, however.