Before we get too ahead of ourselves...a documentation of our false labor hospital trip. My doctor wanted us to stay at the hospital and walk around for a few hours because he knew once my labor progressed it would be super fast (he was right, it just didn't happen for another week and a half). So ensued Steve and I being goofs in the hall and me attempting to drown my misery/embarrassment in Diet Coke. It kind of worked.
When choosing a spouse I highly suggest someone you can laugh with, someone who will deem it important to document you pregnant drinking a diet coke in the hallway of a hospital, and also, most importantly, someone who will buy you ice cream and rub your feet after your failed attempt at birthing your baby. It's the simple things.