Home, and in Labor . . .

Adventure, anyone?
Yesterday I was sent home to complete my labor experience, holding fast at a "4" and 80% effacement, and the ride home brought quite a few mixed emotions. It's quite anti-climatic to leave the hospital after a week in labor without the babies. Also, coming home for bed-rest is rich with irony. I walked in my house and immediately saw 1,237,879 things I needed to get done. The mental anguish starts here. My hands started itching at the sight of my fun new vacuum cleaner and mangy looking carpet. Then, there are things on my dining table. THINGS. I can't stand stuff piled on my table. So, I started sorting, when I was quickly shunted to the couch for the resting part of bed rest.
THEN, our power goes out a 9p.m., thus sending us to bed without any source of entertainment but to look out our windows and wait until the power goes back on (which it didn't for several hours).
Here's the best part. Michael starts his turn to be violently ill with the flu around 1:30 am, leaving me without a labor coach (as I am in labor, a maddeningly slow variety). He is passed out on the couch down stairs this very moment. That means if I need to deliver today, no husband in the delivery room. It's a poetic sort of irony, this, as we were all praying that he would be home for the birth of our babies. It won't be distance that will keep him from the birth, just a round of stupid flu.
So, my contractions are 10 minutes apart, with varying levels of annoyance, two that really took my breath away. The waiting game has begun! It's now a matter of when to go back to the hospital. I think it would have been much easier if they left me there and I racked up an astronomically high bill. I'm guessing with how this is progressing that the babies will be here within the next 72 hours . . .