A letter to false labor

UPDATE:  12 days until my due date!!  That means that I feel like bloated, moody, exhausted crap held together by maternity jeans.

So at around 1:30 a.m. this morning, I started feeling like all around misery.  I was having stomach cramps and nausea followed by what felt like contractions.  They weren't much stronger than my normal Braxton-Hicks.  Then 5:45 a.m. rolled around and it was still going.  I called my midwife, who promptly told me to get some rest and to call her later to give her an update.  She was a great calm, reassuring force.  I already felt bad calling that early and I hate calling in general because I always feel like I'm being paranoid.  So, I got more rest and there was no change.  I called to give her the update and she told me she felt that it sounded to her like false labor.  I was bummed.  Mostly because it meant that I was feeling like shit for no reason.  I know that this last stretch of being knocked up is slow and agonizing.   I know that I'm looking for ANYTHING to indicate that "it's time!".  BUT DAMN!! Since false labor is playing with my emotions I wanted to write it a letter.  From the heart, of course.

Dear False Labor,

Thanks for existing.  No, really.  Thanks for being around.  For reminding me, and countless other desperate, miserable women that nature is a bit of a practical joker.  Because right now, as I am grasping at my sanity, I could really use a good chuckle at my uterus.  My already raging hormones could use another twist in the tracks.  I totally want to get my hopes up that this is finally it, that we will meet our newest family member in due time.  I wasn't at all on the verge of tears all night and then this afternoon when your god forsaken name was dropped.  

I.HATE. YOU.  

Sincerely,
Doesn't matter because pregnancy is a bitch.

I'm so eager to not be pregnant that I don't give two shits about labor pains.  Desperate is ugly on everyone, and I'm wearing it.  Cross your fingers for me would ya?

Hugs til later
Domesticated