This is Part 4 and the final post of an epic false labour alarm that took place over 12 hours. You can read Part 1 here. Catch up on the last instalment here.

In no time at all the elevator doors opened and Cap and Vee came back from their trip to get me something to drink.

I was parched, drained, and my taste buds were already puckered in anticipation for the sweet tart loveliness that was my beloved apple juice.

Everything’s going to be ok. I’ll have my juice and I’m going to be just fine.

“Guess what Mummy! I got a treat!” It was great to see Vee’s joy restored.

Cap put his coffee down on the side table and I smiled expectantly with my hand outstretched.

“Oh. Crap. Sorry.” Cap handed me an orange juice. And this happened.

Buh-bye Bixby, Hello Lou.

“What…is…this?!” My transformation to the Hulk was pretty much unstoppable at this point no matter how much I wanted to head back into Banner territory.

“Um…I can just go and take it back no problem. She just gave me the wrong one. I’ll go right now.”

“NO. NO YOU WILL NOT. YOU WILL STAY HERE. AND WHERE IS MY MOTHERRRRRRRR.”

The elevator doors parted like the Red Sea and my mother walked through them. I almost cried from relief. At this point I didn’t know what to do in what order, or even why I was doing anything.

I just wanted to go home and cry.

My contractions hadn’t increased in intensity and I was willing to take the risk that if I left the hospital now I’d have to come back. Right now I needed to get out of there before I exploded.

I growled at Cap to tell the OBs that I was going home and started getting ready to go.

“But, I thought you were staying here—” began my mom.

“CHANGE OF PLAAAAANNNNSS.”

“Honey…are you ok?”

“OH. I’M FINE. JUST FINE.”

We piled into the elevator with all our luggage. By this time I was seething noticeably and strangers were shuffling as far away as space would allow.

“Ok this is it, honey.” My mom gently pushed me towards the doors and we started walking through the crowds towards the front door.

Please I just want to get into the car. Please can we just get into the car. I was repeating it like a mantra. I knew I couldn’t take any more.

“Oh. Oh no. I guess we got off on the wrong floor. This isn’t where I parked the car.”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?! OH MY GOD! THIS IS SO EFFING STUPID!!!” I yelled.

“Mummy we don’t say stupid.” Chimed in Vee.

“Sorry honey. Of Course….THIS IS SO EFFING RIDICULOUS. I AM GOING TO GET INTO A CAB.”

With energy I didn’t even know I had, I bounded up the stairs to the main floor and stomped out the front door.

I was pretty sure I had started frothing at the mouth by this point.

I stomped around the parking lot for a while, looking for my wallet, but realized I needed to ride home with my family after all because I’d forgotten my house keys. I stopped and did an about-face, and then started stomping after my mom’s car.

I could see Cap coming to meet me halfway. He would later say I looked exactly like this:

“WHY DIDN’T YOU YELL AT THE COUNTER PERSON ABOUT THE JUICE?!”

“Uh…”

“AND WHY DIDN’T YOU YELL AT MY MOTHER?!”

“For being helpful and sweet?”

“NO. FOR BEING ALMOST 2 HOURS LATE!!”

“Kat, there were 2 accidents on the 400, she couldn’t fly here you know.”

“OH MY GOD. GROW A PAIR OF BALLS AND GO YELL AT THE COUNTER LADY. I WANT MY JUUUUUUUUUUICE!”

At this point I had started to power stomp towards my mom and Vee but I thought of another insult to hurl at Cap.

“THIS. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!! THIS—“ I wildly gesticulated to my belly “THIS IS ALLLLLL YOU. WE ARE NEVER HAVING SEX AGAAAAAIN!!!!” Ha. That should do it. I continued my stomp towards the car.

When I got there my mother’s face made me soften. She put her hand gently on my shoulder and started softly, “Honey, I know. I know how tired you are. I know how much pain this is for you…”

Her sweet words somehow permeated my Gamma radiated brain and I let her draw me into an embrace. Cap came up from behind to add to the hug and all my walls came down at once.

“Why won’t my cervix dilate? Whyyyyyyyyyyy? Why is my Crohn’s so stupiiiiiiiiiiid?” I wailed while my mom soothingly murmured things like ‘I know’ and ‘shhhh’ into my hair.

After a few more moments of crying I could hear Vee whimpering from her booster seat and got in to the car comfort her.

“Baby I’m so sorry. Mummy needed a time out.”

“I know Mummy. I just still don’t know why Baby Brother didn’t come out. Today was the worst day ever.”

“I know honey. You’re right. It really was the worst day.” I kissed her sticky little face and held her close.

The contractions held up with diminished intensity for the next few hours, until I fell into a dead sleep that lasted for 16 hours. I didn’t stir once.

A day later we went to see the OB again for a follow-up.

“Your Crohn’s is being difficult again…”

“I know. And I’m used to the contractions. But what’s scaring me is how do I know when it’s labour? This last time they really felt ‘different’ and so much more intense. How do I know?”

“You can’t know. So new rule. If you have any contractions that are 5 minutes apart or less, lasting for more than an hour, you have to go to triage.”

“But…I’d be living there. It happens almost every day.”

“Well you can always rent an RV and stay in the parking lot…” He joked but quickly went silent when he saw my face. “You are almost term, but it’s still too early for you to go into labour. Don’t feel bad about going to triage. Just walk in, and say ‘I have active Crohn’s Disease. I am having contractions and my doctor told me to come in so you can tell me if I’m in labour or not.’ That’s it. No apologies. No feeling silly.”

So. That’s where we’re at.

We’re excited to be at term now that we’re beyond the 37 week mark, we’re all really excited to meet our little guy and we’re researching RV rentals, obviously.

Cross your fingers that our next update will end with baby pics instead of Hulk pics.

Want back to the beginning? Read Part 1 here. About to become a first time dad? Read Heath’s musings about fatherhood now.