First, we've made the difficult decision to close our business. It sucks, but it needs to happen. We're actually at peace with it, even thought we'll continue to be fairly bad off, financially speaking, for a while.
Peanut is due to arrive via scheduled repeat section a week from Thursday (I have a heart condition and everyone agrees that this is the best course. No flames, please. I'm okay with it, and I don't need to be pitied, thanks.) I spent last Thursday night in the hospital, as I thought she was on her way. I was 37w3d, and I expected them to say, "OK, call the OR," but nope. My doctors are AWESOME. They said, "not before 39 weeks, you don't." They figured out that I was dehydrated, gave me 3L via IV and made me drink another two and gave me a wee bit of terbutaline. It did the trick, and I went home the next morning. What with the details of closing the business this week, she needs to stay in til, at least, Saturday. (What's the best way to make God laugh?!)
I'll be returning to the OR in the new year. Shit, I got rid of most of my hats. Time to look for pretty fabric and sew this winter, cause you know, it's all about how I look. That and some snazzy clogs.