25 Wks, 4 days: Did a Trip To Wally World End Life as I Know It?

We had to go. We needed some groceries, and while I am to "rest" while off of work, I am not on bedrest. My doctors say there is no real proof it does anything in preterm labor cases, anyhow.



So we go to Wal-Mart. I loathe Wal-Mart, especially on a Friday afternoon. Too many people, all in a hurry. And rudeness. They cut you off with their shopping carts, try to run you over. I have a hard time, because I am having some mild contractions, so I am trying to stay out of the way of the crazy shoppers because I have to go so....slow. J tries to get me to use one of the motorized whelchairs, and I refuse to do this. We get what we need and try to get out of there. The lines are enormous, and by this time, I am really hurting. There is a lady at the front of our line with 2 carts, both overflowing. After the slow cashier gets all of it rang up, she proceeds to hand her a stack of coupons. Several of them don't scan, and there is is one for 25 cents that the cashier tells her they cannot take. She argues. I am just about to give the woman a quarter so she will let the cashier finish and get the line moving, when the cashier concedes. Then the woman pays with her food stamp card, which the machine doesn't want to take, and another battle ensues. J looks at me and tells me to go to the car and wait. I do, but then wait for J in the car for another 40 minutes, as that is how long he had to wait.

Sitting in the car, the contractions get worse. I am sitting there, waiting on J, thinking I am just about to deliver this kid in my car when J finally emerges. And we come straight home, where E, bless his little heart, puts away the groceries for me as his daddy unpacks them from the car. So I am free to strap myself to my monitor and send a strip to the monitoring people. They call back in 10 minutes to tell me what I already knew: I had 15 contractions in that one hour.

Through boluses from the brethine pump, they get the contractions slowed down to a quiet roar, and I am permitted to stay home for the night. But by this point, I am really scared. This was me trying to go to the grocery store. I haven't worked since being discharged from OB Mecca. What is going to happen when I try to work the next night?