We had been in the day
before to be checked out due to some suspicious activity and major general
discomfort on my part. We were told three things:
- “You’re not in labor yet.”
- “Well, I don’t think you’ll go PAST your due date.” (which was three weeks away – I almost cried)
- “You have a little baby in there! Maybe six pounds.”
It was all I could do to get through my day at work on the
25th. Thinking this major discomfort was my new normal and I just had to be
tough for the next three weeks, I retreated with the movie and pizza.
The next day I labored at home to begin. I was in an out of
the bathtub and doing little high-knee sprints across the living room on my
tiptoes when the contractions hit their peak. A healthy person with no
unfortunate accidents in my past, I had nothing with which to compare the pain.
Our midwife said “we would know” when labor began. I had no idea if this was it
or not because I was told the day prior that I probably had the full three
weeks left.
Contractions got closer, Jon was writing them down on the
chalkboard in the kitchen and they were really close together. They were so
brief, however, that I didn’t think this could be it (they only lasted about
15-20 seconds). When we finally called the hospital they told us that we should
probably come in. I remember saying to Jon through tears on the way there, “If
this isn’t it, I really can't do this!”
It was “it” and, much to my relief, and I was
congratulated with the news that I was dilated 6 cm already, and, “You’ve been
doing some work today!”
I
remember needing to stop a few times on our trip up to the 3rd floor of the
hospital because I couldn't walk through the contractions. I remember the progression
of labor and what was happening in the room during those few hours even though
my eyes were mostly closed. I remember the vibrato C-pitch notes I hummed to get through each of the contractions (for real, it was crazy...I was making myself laugh even). I remember looking out the window and
seeing the full moon come up as Henry prepared to enter the world. I remember
the physical intensity of giving birth, primarily in the last half hour or so,
and hearing Jon say, “It’s a boy, Hon.” I remember the first snuggle with
Henry, what he looked like in those first moments and how I got to hold and
feed him for almost an hour before they took him away for too long. The
feelings of how I had no idea how to be a parent and being so excited about it and crazy
in love seeing Jon hold our son.
Oh yeah, and I also remember thinking, “Yeah
RIGHT 6-pound-little-guy” as he weighed in at 8 pounds even...three weeks early.
Happy Birthday Eve Big Guy! We love you so much.
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