I did not sleep well, and woke up with a miserable backache. I got to work and I was spotting. I psyched myself up, thinking that maybe things were ready to get rolling. I spent all day in pain, and left for my doc's appointment where she was supposed to strip my membranes.
Yeah, apparently my cervix is still only "a fingertip" dilated and I'm not effaced at all. No stripping of membranes.
I had another NST, and my stubborn fetus who does motherfucking backflips all day and night decided to sleep through the test. So a 20 minute test turned into me chugging orange juice and two bottles of water to wake him up, and sitting for almost an extra hour on the exam table until he met the movement criteria for the test.
I got home and my house is hotter than the blazes of hell. There is a giant wall mounted AC that cools my first floor, but we forgot to turn it on when we left this morning. Did I mention it was 98 degrees here today?
I went upstairs to change and couldn't even breathe it was so hot up there. H saw the look on my face and asked what was wrong. I told him I was hot and his response was "What do you expect, there are no ACs in the windows" (upstairs does not have wall units, only window units). I damn near strangled him on the spot. Especially since we had one of these freakishly hot days 3 weeks ago and he was supposed to put the ACs in the windows then.
I will now be sleeping on an aerobed on my living room floor tonight. If he doesn't get the fucking Acs out of the basement and into the windows by tomorrow night, divorce will be the kindest form of punishment for him, although I am imagining other ways to make him pay, some of which include knives and weed-wackers.