False Alarm

There is nothing like pregnancy, and impending parenthood, to remind you of how little control you really have over your life.
I brought home my day planner from work, and keep it opened up to the current date on my desk at home, and fill it with daily to-do lists and OB appointments and social plans. All the while, in the back of my mind, I'm keenly aware that I may not actually carry any of them out. Should our son decide to make an early appearance--and now that I'm more than 38 weeks along, that's a daily consideration--all those carefully laid-out plans and lists will fall by the wayside. I was reminded of that last night. I woke up yesterday feeling fine. After a friend had to cancel some afternoon plans, I decided to go to the gym (I usually take Sundays off, but since I'm going to be taking weeks off soon, I figured - why not?). Back home and feeling refreshed from an hour on the elliptical and the walk from the subway in the brisk autumn air, I suggested to my husband that we walk to one of our favorite neighborhood stores, The Bedford Cheese Shop, and pick up one of our favorite meal combos: cheese, charcuterie and chocolate.
We bundled up (it's been in the 40s at night) and headed off on the 15-minute walk. But we had barely made it a block before I started feeling shooting pains in my lower belly and pelvic area. That's happened before, usually when I am walking quickly to catch a subway. But the pains typically subside after a few seconds. Not this time. I slowed down and instinctively reached for my belly. But the sharp pains continued. Even at the snail's pace I had now assumed, it hurt to walk. Suddenly, the thought occurred to me: what if I went into labor at the cheese shop? That was followed by a rapid succession of increasingly scary thoughts. I haven't packed a bag for the hospital! I haven't washed my hair in 3 days! My mom isn't planning to fly up from Florida for another week and a half! What if my water breaks in the store??
The pain I probably could have weathered, but the thought of going into labor even 15 minutes from home was enough to convince me to turn right around and head home--that and the sudden tightening on my belly (was this labor?). That's the thing about first-time pregnancies. If you've never had contractions before, it's hard to know when you are actually going into labor, and when it's just 1. Braxton-Hicks contractions (a.k.a. "false labor"), 2. the weight of your every-growing baby, compounded by any shift in postion that puts more pressure on your nerves , or 3. gas (which would be a really embarrassing discovery should you act on your fears and head to the hospital prematurely).
Once home, I called my sister--who's a doc and a mother of 2--for a diagnosis. She assured me that she'd had the same pains in the weeks before she delivered and that it was most likely caused by our son "dropping" into launch mode. This, fortunately, did not mean that he was planning to launch himself into the world that night. But it did give me an excuse to plant myself on the couch for the rest of the night, while my husband ran out to pick up dinner (heroes and pastries--a fine alternative), and enough incentive to pack an overnight bag. Just in case.