It's official, I'm induced.

Hospitals are boring.

My husband and I showed up to the birthing center at 4 PM. Two hours and eighteen rounds of questions later, the nurse finally shoved a dose of Cervadil up my vajay and we officially started this little adventure.

Hospitals ask a lot of questions. I had no less than four people ask if I had ever had any heart problems, liver disease, asthma, etc. I also signed a lot of consent forms, which all appeared to be the same form with slightly different print for slightly different situations. I got banded and tagged (I have a nice, bright red bracelet that screams the word "ALLERGY", which is cool--the whole world now knows that shellfish makes me puke), my husband's visitor pass makes him look slightly like a child molester (those ID cameras never make anyone look good) and I'm going to have a baby in the next 12-24 hours. Hooray!

I still do not understand why I need this damn hep-lock in place now if I'm not getting a Pitocin drip until 8 AM. It's uncomfortable and I was promised that I'd be able to shower in the morning. Am I just supposed to wash my hair with this giant IV thing in the back of my hand? What's up with that?

Anyway, no one warned me ahead of time that I'd have to lay down for two hours after the Cervadil was inserted. That was probably the most boring two hours of my life. My husband brought me a bacon cheeseburger from the hospital cafeteria for dinner and it was super awkward to try to eat it while laying down. He also brought a piece of chocolate cake. My husband is pretty awesome.

The only other thing making me uncomfortable is that I need to be hooked up to the fetal monitor until... well, until I don't have a fetus in me anymore. Continuous fetal monitoring is a pain in the butt, and Paxton wavers between being completely cooperative and being a total PITA.

The good thing is that I am already having contractions. They're not regular at all--one to four minutes apart--but they are happening. The nurse who was just in here asked if I could feel them. I can, and they're uncomfortable, but not painful--I declined the shot of Benadryl she offered to help me sleep. Hopefully by morning, my cervix will be soft enough that the Pitocin can work quickly, I can push out Pax, and this whole debacle will be over.

Except then we'll have a whole new debacle on our hands. Y'know, a baby.