August 4, 2013
I didn't sleep much last
night. My stomach was churning and uncomfortable, the baby unusually
still. I can still feel that extra dinner I suddenly had the urge to
eat last night at 11pm. I tell Eric to take Wyatt to church, I will
stay behind. My back hurts a bit, but this is nothing new at this
stage.
About 10:30am I start to
look at the clock and realize my abdomen has been tightening in a
regular pattern. Even though I am almost 41 weeks pregnant, this is
nothing knew, I have been having patterned contractions that come and
go since about 35 weeks. Frustrated, I tell them to leave me alone
unless they really mean business.
I decide I should probably
text Eric, just to give him a heads up. “No rush, but I am having
contractions. AGAIN.”
“Should I come home?” he
replies.
“Not yet,” I say, “Just
stand by.” We don't yet know whether we are having a boy or girl.
It all seems so unreal.
Eric tells a friend at
church who texts me excitedly to ask if I am in labor. “Probably
not,” I reply. “I doubt that,” she says, “You're going to
have that baby sooner or later!”
An hour and a half goes by
with me timing contractions and laying on my side to see if they will
dissipate. They don't, and are starting to get stronger, four
minutes apart. I'm still in denial because my last labor was long
and very strenuous, so this still seems like it should be the
beginning.
I finally text Eric to come
home home, but I make sure to add, “No rush”, as if I am
inconveniencing him by asking him to leave early. My mom gets home
before they do and starts talking to me. She notices I am not paying
attention, and I tell her I am in labor. Just then, I get another
contraction and have to lean over on the wood stove. When it is over
we continue talking, as she stands at the sink washing dishes. She
asks me a question and when I don't answer she realizes that I am in
the hallway on my hands and knees and cannot speak.
By the time Eric and Wyatt
get home I am laying in bed, trying to slow things down. I am afraid
to walk around and get things really going. I ask what took him so
long; he had to put gas in the car, he thought it wasn't urgent.
It seems urgent now. I put on a cute and comfortable black dress. This seems important. He
calls the midwife who wants to talk to me and asks if I think I need
to come to the hospital, which is an hour away. This slightly annoys
me, I just want her to tell me to come in or stay home. I say I'm
not sure, and she says to come on in then.
Hurriedly, we throw the rest
of my hospital things into an overnight bag and I slowly walk out the
door and eventually manage to make it into the car, stopping every
little bit on the walk there.
My contractions are 4 minutes apart. It is 1:28pm.
To be continued...
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