Ah-hem-hem-hem (and other throat-clearing noises)
My uterus is obviously on strike.
This baby will never be born.
I will die, and like Queen Mary of England (Elizabeth I's elder sister), they will discover that it was not a baby after all but a ginormous tumor...two years they though she was pregnant--how bizarre is that?
All of this is to say that my contractions cannot decide how strong they want to be, but I know that 20 minutes apart and mild discomfort isn't enough to eject a baby.
I'll go to bed in a few minutes here and the contractions will undoubtedly stop.
Why?
Because my uterus is on strike and THIS BABY WILL NEVER BE BORN.
yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeearrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggggghhhh!!!
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