Paranoia Strikes Deep

Yet another trip to the hospital, and home again. This time it was because Ciaran was just so still for so long, I started to get worried. Spurred on by our doctor's insistence that there's no such thing as crying wolf too much at this stage, Sean and I decided to call the doctor, who recommended we go in to the hospital for a non-stress test. 

After a few words with the intake guy in the ER, who was (a) lackadaisical (at best) and (b) seemingly incompetent (looking me up twice to no avail, and failing to take down our insurance information despite the insurance card we handed him), we headed up to the Labor and Delivery unit. The non-stress test consists of two monitors on my belly, one measuring contractions and the other measuring the baby's movement and heart rate. Just about as soon as I was hooked up Ciaran started boogying, which was great.  And I had several (weak) contractions, pretty regular, but not strong or regular enough to stick around.

Who knows, maybe I'll be back sooner rather than later. What was great to know is that the nurses were fantastic and made me feel like we did the right thing coming in.