Last night, as I was cruising around at work, I got the call I was waiting for.
"I'm having contractions," Nocona said.
"What?" I say, not so much as a question, as to just allow my brain a second to process.
"I'm having light contractions."
"Sweet! Do you need me to hurry and come home?" I asked.
"No."
"No?"
"No. Not yet. They are still light and inconsistent," she said rather nonchalantly for someone approaching the world's most exhausting exercise...
So, the night went on with calls back and forth between contractions and trips to the jail, but all to no avail. She went to bed and woke up with hardly any more episodes. False Labor. False Alarm. I must admit my excitement is divided - 60% new baby, 40% no more work until after New Year's (ok maybe 50-50 or 30-70, who knows?) I'm just ready to see the new little man and introduce him to his new world. Everything is ready, son. Hurry up!
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