37 Weeks 5 Days: Just a Practice Run

I felt pretty good Sunday morning before heading off to church thanks to the oodles of rest I got on Saturday from staying at home and lying in bed most of the day. I did have to miss my brother's 50th birthday party to get that much needed rest, so here's a tribute to him:

 

Happy 50th birthday, Philip!

 After sitting through the church service and stopping by work for about 20 minutes, I felt like I had worked all day long. I didn't know how I could feel so bad after feeling so good just a few hours earlier, but I decided to take a shower and head to bed really early. The longer I lay there, however, the more uncomfortable I became. I told my husband that I feared my water could break at any moment. It felt like it was bulging, and I was so sore. Then, I reported that maybe I was having . . . CONTRACTIONS! (Emphasized for dramatic effect because I'm pretty sure that's how Daddy heard me say the word.) After consulting two experienced mommies and arguing back and forth about what we should do (Daddy wants to go to the hospital and Mommy wants to stay home because she sees a sleepless night ahead of her), we realized these (gulp!) contractions were suddenly coming very close together, like every three to five minutes. I tell Daddy I'm not leaving unless he showers and shaves (he doesn't argue with me remembering our close call on Gabriel's birthday). Then, I sneak in a quick load of dishes, sweep the kitchen floor, take out the trash, and clean off the dining room table (you can't give birth with a sink full of dirty dishes) while he's in the shower. Oh, and I give my toenails a quick coat of pink, then I'm ready to take off (well, after I spend about 30 minutes telling Daddy what to pack in my suitcase).

We arrived at the hospital at about 1:30AM.

 

 The contraction monitor quickly revealed that I was, indeed, having contractions every three to five minutes. You know, I wouldn't have known those were contractions if it had been my first pregnancy. I just wasn't in enough pain, only uncomfortable. I was only pretty sure they were because it was a pain that was continuously starting and stopping. They did not feel at all like my contractions with Gabriel, though. His was pressure bearing straight down. These were slight, quick piercing pains on my lower right--kinda weird. Of course, I got checked right away, and I was very surprised I had not changed from my previous one to two centimeters dilated. I couldn't believe it. An hour and a half later, I was still contracting, but my cervix remained the same. My doctor had me stay the night and wait to see how I was in the morning when she was able to come in. My contractions were completely subsided by then. She rechecked me, but I am still the same one to two centimeters. It was false labor. 

 

That's so weird, right? I never thought I'd be leaving the hospital pregnant after feeling those contractions coming so quickly and progressively stronger. Daddy, I know, was disappointed. He is ready for me to quit hogging his little girl. Mommy, on the other hand, is relieved. She needs to stay in there just a little longer. I don't want to pump because my baby is in the nursery getting help breathing; I want to nurse--skin to skin, chest to chest. I need her to heal me in that moment. Then, I'll spend the rest of my life repaying her for it.

30 Weeks 2 Days: This Was the Day

Today Baby Girl is 30 weeks 2 day which is the gestational age that I went into labor and had Gabriel. It really is unfathomable to me to even think about having her right now. I don't feel ready at all. I don't feel like I'm about to explode or like I just can't take it anymore. I feel completely fine. I'm just getting bigger and that makes things harder and more tiring.

That's not to say that I was "ready" when I had Gabriel. Physically, it was a struggle to continue with the pregnancy day to day, not because of all the problems we had, but because I just had a lot of pregnancy symptoms that were hard to deal with. Emotionally and mentally, I was definitely not ready to lose the pregnancy.

One week before, after noticing a significant decrease in fetal movement and response, I called my sister and told her it was time to make his outfit--no more waiting to see if he grew more. I called my friend and told her to get his song ready. I called the pastor and discussed my wishes for his big "going away party."

Two days before, I had an ultrasound that showed a kicking, playing, happy little boy. I told the doctor that he was barely moving in the two weeks prior, but after the ultrasound, she couldn't tell me that it meant anything was wrong. I knew though.

One day before, I woke up to a very tiny bit of brown on the toilet paper. This did not alarm me because I bled for two months straight. At that point, however, I hadn't bled for about a month. Still, I knew it was possible for some blood to show up, so I didn't go into a panic or anything. That afternoon around 4:45PM, I noticed a quarter-sized dollop of a clear, snotty blob on the toilet paper. My heart sank. It was my first pregnancy, but I was pretty sure what it was. A call to my sis gave confirmation to my thoughts--the mucous plug. She told me not to worry, though. That I could still have several weeks left after losing the mucous plug. So, I didn't go to the hospital. I did, however, shave my legs and cut my toenails and fingernails. (That's what you do, right?) I felt somber that night knowing that losing the mucous plug put our time together on a countdown; I just didn't know how little sand was left in our hourglass.

The morning of, I woke up refreshed after a good night's sleep for the first time in a long time. I figured that meant everything was okay, so I proceeded to get ready for work. I planned to call the doc and go in after school to get checked since we saw the blood and the mucous plug. While I was putting my make-up on, I began to feel pressure down low. I didn't think a lot of it because sometimes when you're pregnant, you just feel like that kid is gonna fall out even though you know it isn't. I felt a little more pressure, though, so I decided to take a half day at work and go to the doctor a little earlier. Then, as I grabbed my purse off the kitchen counter, I felt some pressure that knocked me off my feet. I decided to take the whole day off work, just going in to get my ducks in a row before heading to the doctor's office.

Three and a half hours later, we were at the doctor's office being told I was fully dilated and would be delivering within the hour.

Four hours later, I was still holding on, waiting for my sister to get there so she wouldn't miss the miracle we thought we wouldn't get.

2:34 PM He was born, and he cried, and I'll never forget it.

4:15 PM We gave him to Jesus.

Right now, at this moment, his little sister wiggles and wobbles and kicks and plays inside of me, right where he was, but oh so different than he was. From this point forward, I'll be in uncharted territory--a pregnancy stage I know nothing about. From this point forward, I'll look at the toilet paper every day watching for the spots and the clear snotty blob. From this point forward, I'll get ready . . . because she's coming, she's coming home.