ouch, i'm serious.

OMG that HURT. A lot.

I have been mentally preparing a blog post about our amazing baby shower. All the fabulous family and friends and food and decorations. It was fantastic and I have amazing stories (for example, a few surprise attendees who brought tears of joy to my eyes). But I'm putting that post on hold. (Not for long, though. Stay tuned.)

Because OUCH.

We had family and friends in town for the shower, but tonight we are down to one house guest, MomRo. The weekend has been busy, so we'd yet to give MomRo a tour of the nursery. I was squatting on the new carpet (floor sample from Pottery Barn Kids, hoorah!), showing her something adorable. (I think it was the owl-adorned sling that Meghan sent when she found out how much Tater loves owls. Promise I will not hold this against the sling.) When suddenly I felt a stabbing sensation on my right-hand side. It was very localized and didn't spread, but it HURT. When I tried to inhale, the pain just intensified. It lasted for 10-15 excruciating seconds.

When it finally subsided, I was stunned and impressed with the pain. It was so much more intense than anything I've felt so far during pregnancy. I'm guessing it was a Braxton Hicks, because I have no other explanation. Defaulting to the obvious.

This happened an hour or two ago. I've felt nothing of similar intensity since, but I've been feeling periodic bouts of uncomfortableness on my right-hand side in the same area. Like Braxton Hicks aftershocks?

Guys, that pain was not pleasant. After it ended, I stood up, looked at Brad, and told him there was a good chance I'd be yelling at him while in labor.

This weekend we heard great labor stories from our parents. My dad told me that he almost missed my birth because my mom delivered all nine pounds of me (her first) in under two hours. She was walking the halls, gloating, a few hours later. (I should say that this is my Dad's recollection. I'm guessing my mother would dispute it if she were around. She was never one to gloat, unless her church volleyball team won a game.) Anyhow, fast-forward three years. Karma handed her a ten-pound, enormous-cranium Randy and a twelve-hour labor.

MomRo shared that when she was in labor with Brad, DadRo instinctively patted her as a comforting technique. She HATED the patting. And she told him so. The message was loud and clear, as DadRo assured us that he avoided all pat-like caresses when Stef and Jared were born.

Brad heard this story, and immediately decided to pat me during labor. I've always assumed that Brad would defer to humor during labor, cracking jokes during the most difficult moments. And that I will NOT be a receptive audience. We've discussed this. Tonight he explained that he likes jokes (especially his own), and he doesn't want me to focus my labor ire on his awesome jokes. He is indifferent, however, towards patting. Thus, he believes that if he pats me during labor, I will hate the pats instead, and he's fine with that.

Hum . . . If tonight's pain is anything like the labor pains to come, I guarantee you I will hate both.