Those four words kept replaying in my mind on Sunday night. Tomorrow will make me 11 days overdue.
Would I wake up in the morning again a little bigger, but feeling as normal as I had today? Comfortable, like labor is still miles away?
I'd resigned myself to being pregnant until at least 42 weeks- just figuring somehow my body subconsciously wanted to beat every milestone. Hey, we'd made it to 41.5, might as well go for 42, right?
Telling strangers I was due 10 days ago was getting pretty entertaining after all. Judging by the wild reactions we were getting, going over a week "late" in pregnancy must nearly be impossible these days. :) It was almost funny to me, really, that I could still be pregnant. Kind of like playing a game of who could last the longest, and I was trying to win it. :D
That Sunday morning I'd started trying to make my plans for the next week- what days I'd work out, how I maybe could teach my regular fitness class this week to stay distracted. I felt okay about it all- I had this weird peace that I could make it a few more days. He will come eventually. He has to, or they'll induce me at some point.
But as I laid down in bed that very night, suddenly a wave of tiredness hit me, and I was crying to Jesus all over again. The tears just came and I kept telling Him I needed help to get through another day {I'm sure no surprise to either of us, considering that I had to tell Him that every single morning}. I told Him that night for the first time, Lord Jesus, I need to have this baby soon. I'm so tired, so ready- if it's your will, could I please have him tomorrow or really soon? I want to wait on you, I told Him, but I'm so ready to be done.
I fell asleep pretty easily after praying, and I woke up late the next morning to a hard, real contraction.
My first thought: now that doesn't ever happen in the morning.
I hopped out of bed, excited to feel and see other signs that my body was getting ready for the real thing.
I couldn't stop smiling all morning. I had a few random painful contractions before breakfast and it gave me hope. It might not be today, but it could be soon, I thought. :D Feeling pain is a very good thing when you're that pregnant.
I told my husband the "news" with a goofy grin, and he finished up some work he had to do that morning. We went to lunch with the kids, and the contractions completely disappeared. I was a little disappointed, but part of me expected it. I'd never gone into labor in the daytime, and I was probably just dehydrated that morning.
Rob went back to work, I took a nap, and woke up with a few contractions again, which promptly disappeared as I got up and moving again. But it gave me hope for Tuesday or Wednesday being the big day. It wasn't going to be forever!
We went walking later that evening- we did a 3 mile trail loop with the kids. At the end of the hour, I started having contractions again {hooray!}, but then as we went to eat that night they went back to being random, 20 minutes apart or more.
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| walking the trail with the family, a few hours before Zane was born... |
We finally got home at 9:25, and I hopped in the bath around 9:30 as Rob read to the kids. I was hoping for labor to come in the middle of the night like it always had before, and wanted to see if I felt like it could be the morning so we could take the kids to my dad's house before they went to bed.
By 10:05ish, I'd had a few contractions in the bathtub which made me think labor might be tomorrow morning, but I still wasn't betting on it.
I got out of the bath, dried off, and told Rob I think we probably should take the kids just in case, because I didn't want to deal with them coming downstairs in the morning if I actually was in labor.
Within the time I got out of the bath and told Rob, and the time the kids were ready to go {10:15}, I had 3-4 really hard contractions.
I realized when I started hugging the stair post and plie squatting as the kids were telling me goodbye- these hurt like crazy, and they're ridiculously close together... and oh my goodness, this is painful.
Rob intended me to go with him across town to drop off the kids, but I told him there was no way I was getting in a car with that much pain in my bottom.
I think the whole deep squatting thing and the look on my face must have freaked him out a little, because he loaded up the kids faster than they've ever gone anywhere before. Ava may or may not have been crying as they left, I don't even remember. I hugged the kids, and told them goodbye, and Rob kissed me and asked me if I was sure he should go.
I told him yes, I'll be fine. I'm sure it's nothing.
I figured he was being a little too paranoid about the whole thing- after all, these were going to slow down after I sat down, and we'd go to bed and have a baby tomorrow if we were lucky.
I should have known he knew more about the laboring me than I knew about myself. ;)
After he left, my contractions started coming right on top of each other- and they were getting even harder. They came so fast I couldn't even time them, and I was shaking after each one, still hanging on to the stair post even after Rob left with the kids.
After having a few more super quick contractions {only 6 feet from the bathtub where I'd gotten out less than 20 minutes before}, this thought suddenly hit me- these are the kind of contractions you feel at the end of labor- not the beginning.
And then I realized:
I was home all by myself.
to be continued....
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