39 Weeks: The smallest of magnificent things, and the greatest of little ones

Once again, I find myself belatedly writing and post-dating my 39 week "pregnancy update" with a birth story. And once again, labor was nothing like I expected. Having been through it once, I thought  I knew how things would go. Rationally, I knew it wouldn't be exactly the same as last time, but I figured it would essentially be a sped up version. As the due date drew closer, I started having some anxiety about when exactly to consider labor "started," when to call for childcare help, when to go in to triage, etc. I had heard too many stories of second labors going incredibly quickly.

I had my 38 week appointment scheduled on a Tuesday, when I was technically 38.2. It was so hot that day, but I was DOING it. I'd nearly made it through the hottest summer we'd had in years, with a baby in my belly and a toddler in tow-- and the end was near! It's funny, with Noah I was NOT ready to be done being pregnant. I think God was gracious to me this time in making pregnancy much... less enjoyable. This time, all the sickness in the first half and all the discomfort in the second half made it easier to look forward to the day baby would be on the outside. Granted, I still miss a lot of things about being pregnant: the big kicks, all the sweet little wiggles that only I could feel, the belly that made all my clothes look cute, the comments from well-intentioned strangers, the ability to nap when my toddler napped. I do miss those things terribly in hindsight. I knew that I would, but as always you can't truly know until you're there. And now I know.

And now I know I was much more physically uncomfortable than I thought at the end, because the relief of not having a 7 pound 15 ounce baby in my belly was nearly instantaneous. But also, now knowing what I know about being a mom, the love was nearly instantaneous, too. The transition from one body to two still mystifies me beyond my ability to comprehend the magnitude of the miracle. I know its the same baby in there the whole time, but seeing their face for the first time is a whole new world of connection that you don't get even in the most intimate moments of pregnancy.

When I was binge watching Call the Midwife during one of my many illnesses over the winter, this quote stood out to me, "When a child is born, the world is altered in an instant. A new voice is heard, new love comes into being. Years later, we pause and say, 'Yes, that's when it all began, on that day in that room when I saw that face.' Birth is the smallest of magnificent things, and the greatest of little ones." I especially love that both of my babies were born on a Wednesday afternoon in room 3612, both with Vanessa as my doula and Jeane as my Midwife, and Ross as my biggest support, getting his hands squeezed off during the final, most painful contractions.

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. I had Ross meet Noah and me at the Midwife's office that Tuesday. I wanted to talk through our plans for when labor started. I also had the Midwife check me, even though I know it means nothing (spoiler alert: now I REALLY know it means nothing)! But I thought, at least if I know I'm already dilated to 3-4cm, I have ZERO time to waste when contractions start. However, I was still just at 1cm and maybe 60% effaced. Essentially unchanged from 36 weeks. AND my Braxton-Hicks had even slowed down in the past week. So I left that appointment feeling really calm. Almost like I'd bought myself another week of pregnancy or something. I made plans to swim laps that weekend and finish the thank-yous from my baby shower. I also texted my Aunt Karen three different contingency plans based on our discussion with the Midwife. My aunt lives about 35 minutes away, and she was our top choice for watching Noah when labor started. Plan A was for her to come to our house when contractions kicked in. Plan B, if labor started at 7 or 8am, was for us to drop Noah off at his friend Alex's house on our way to the hospital, and my aunt would get him there after morning rush hour. Plan C was for us to meet my aunt at the hospital, with Noah in tow.

Plan D, apparently, was for my water to break and NOTHING to happen. Tuesday evening, a mere 5 hours after leaving the Midwife's office with new peace of mind, my water broke out of nowhere, with nary a contraction in sight. Not only did we have time for my aunt to make her way to our house, we also had time to eat dinner, tuck Noah in, take a short walk, AND greet my mom after her three hour drive from Omaha! Six hours after my water broke, I still wasn't having contractions-- just some uncomfortable cramping. Per the Midwife's recommendations, we headed into the hospital for intermittent monitoring overnight.

Now, this shook me up. It was perhaps less stressful than waiting for my aunt to arrive through painful contractions and precipitous labor, but it was incredibly stressful to me, given that it wasn't even in the realm of possibilities in my mind. I'd done this before: started labor on my own and progressed entirely normally and naturally. Why on EARTH would my body not remember how to do this a mere three years later?!

I don't know that I even really let my guard down to weep about it, but I should have. It might have made the long night less unpleasant. Instead, I held it all in with only occasional tears of frustration slipping out. Our wait in triage was anticlimactic and I was antsy to get into a room. But then the labor bed was shockingly uncomfortable-- clearly not made for sleep. And being monitored for 20 minutes out of every hour made sleep nearly impossible. Ross slept from about 0200-0500 in a nearby chair, and I slept-ish for about 20 minutes around 0400, I think. In hindsight, I should've just asked for continuous monitoring so the nurse wasn't coming and going every 30 minutes, but I craved those last few intervals of freedom. I knew that once the pitocin started (because even when we left our house, I knew it was WHEN and not IF they needed to start pitocin), I WOULD be on the monitor continuously. Until then, I wanted to walk down the hallway unhampered, with my hand on my belly, and feel those sweet kicks just a few more times.

At 0525 Wednesday morning, I took a lonely, tearful, bittersweet lap around the maternity floor, trying to wrap my head around what was to come. Sarah, the Midwife on call, came to check on me right after that walk. She'd been texting me through the night, which was a great comfort when I otherwise felt pretty alone and confused. I'm so grateful to her-- and to the fact that we used to work together at New Birth Company. Otherwise I certainly wouldn't have been texting with her like any old friend. But it was comforting to do that and not have to go through the answering service or the L and D nurses. She checked me and said that a night of cramping, walking, and tossing and turning had maybe nudged me to a 2-3cm and 80%. I think that was optimistic, given that an hour previous, the nurse had said I was still at a "loose 1cm." BUT this check got things moving a bit. More importantly, Sarah sat down and prayed with us, that God the Good Mechanic would give us peace that He knows how my body works, and that He is in control. We loved that.

Then Sarah went home and they had to monitor me for an hour before starting pitocin-- I actually started having some minor contractions during that hour. Then they started "a whiff" of pitocin at 0715 (2gtts/hour) and I think I tried to rest and do some Bible study for a bit. Romans 15:13 really stood out to me for the last few weeks of pregnancy, and while I was waiting for labor to start: "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you amy overflow with hope by the power of the holy spirit." (Made more poignant by the fact that Hope, along with Anne and Rose, was one of our top name choices.)

They turned the pitocin up to 4gtts/hour around 0830, and at 0850 I texted my doula, Vanessa, "contractions are such that I'd be paying attention if I were at home." They weren't really painful yet, but they felt like actual contractions with a start and stop time, compared to just cramping.

Basically right after that text, Vanessa walked into the room and I was SO happy to see her! With Noah, we were escorted from the office to L and D and were never alone in the room thereafter-- it was a crazy 4 hours from 6cm to delivery, and my Midwife and doula were there the whole time. This time, we had to hurry up and WAIT which was unnerving. I'm so grateful we opted for a doula again, because once we saw her, she never left our sight until baby was born. Jeane, my Midwife, came in at some point in the morning, maybe when I was first getting into the tub? But then she left again for clinic, which was a little disheartening.

That first hour with Vanessa, I bounced on a birth ball and we chatted, I snacked, it was all pretty good. But things picked up QUICKLY after that. I don't think they ever turned the pitocin up again, and in fact at some point I think they turned it off, but once contractions started they were immediately painful! At the time, I thought it was because of the pitocin, but Sarah reminded me that I'd been awake all night, so I was already tired and my threshold was probably a bit lower. Then at my 2 week postpartum appointment, Jeane reminded me that I was contracting for my ENTIRE labor without a cushion of amniotic fluid! Last time my water didn't break until 7cm, which was a whole different ballgame! This time I didn't really get to ease into them. But just like last time, the tub felt incredible.

Laboring in the tub was good, but the intensity was still a little unnerving. Last time I remembered having these glorious breaks in between contractions, but this time they felt much closer together from the get-go. Last time, I made a labor playlist but didn't even get it out of my bag. This time, I had nothing prepared, but thankfully I'd charged and brought my old phone and we turned on my Worship playlist. The only songs I really remember hearing are "Lay My Burdens Down," which was really meaningful to me at this exact time last year, and "Good, Good Father" which was really meaningful to me the year before, when I was battling PPD while trying to wrap my head around a surprise pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage. The other song I took note of was, "Lo, He Comes with Clouds Descending," which is a bit of a Christmas song in my head, but is a good reminder of how powerful God is. Of course, even the details of my little labor wouldn't escape him. He'd always known how this would go, and he had a reason for it.

Once I got out of the tub, I have no concept of time. I'm so curious to see Vanessa's timeline when she does my postpartum home visit, because it all starts to blend together for me. I just remember being anxious because everyone said I was getting close, yet the Midwife was nowhere to be seen, so how could I be THAT close? And if I wasn't THAT close, I couldn't possibly continue at this level of intensity. Even when she did get there to check me, I remember saying, "If I'm not at least 8cm, I want an epidural." I was only at 7cm when she checked me! I was devastated until Vanessa reminded me that I'd essentially gone from something like 3cm to 7cm in two hours, which might explain why it felt so miserable. But still, I was disheartened. I was laying in bed by that time, and I just felt overwhelmingly fatigued between every contraction. Like if they'd been even a little farther apart, I could've taken a cat nap then and there. Instead, they kept coming and coming and I swore I did NOT remember labor hurting this bad, and that I wanted an epidural next time, since clearly no one was going to take my request seriously this time. (Disclaimer: I had the baby less than an hour after asking for an epidural, so my birth team wasn't being cruel and ignoring me. They simply knew that I didn't actually have time to get an epidural that would do me an ounce of good.)

Probably less than 20 (miserable, nauseating, light-headed) contractions after saying that, I felt the urge to push, which I never really had last time. As with pregnancy, I know God was there in that moment: instead of being in denial and afraid to actively move to the next stage, I was beyond READY to be done with labor and to have that baby in my arms! So push I did.

And then suddenly, it was over, and she was here. Our sweet summer Rose. She stayed in my arms while I got stitched up, and I was unbelievably glad to be holding her. After it was all said and done, Jeane told me that baby sister had a true knot in her cord. She let me look at the placenta, and I untied that slippery knot with one hand while holding my healthy baby in the other and whispering a prayer of thanks for her safety.

In hindsight, even the PROM and the need for pitocin (therefore continuous monitoring) was a gift from God for my anxious heart. True knots can lead to fetal distress and even fetal demise in labor. Since I was monitored for every minute of active labor, we know that the baby handled it like a champ, for which I'm unbelievably grateful! (Grateful for both the knowledge, and the fact that she handled everything without distress.)

(It's funny, I actually did have some anxiety about nuchal cords and true knots mid-pregnancy. I spent a week or so visualizing the baby untangling herself as she flipped head-down. And once she seemed to settle head-down I was less worried about it. But I did ask at my 37 week appointment if nuchal cords or true knots could be seen on ultrasound. Jeane said maybe, but what would you do about it? Also at that appointment, I said it felt like one or both of baby's hands were above her head, and Jeane said she'd likely move them before birth. Except she came out with her left hand saluting us, which may explain the fact that my contractions didn't start when my water broke. Hand-above-head isn't terribly conducive to good positioning. Finally, Jeane asked me at that appointment if this baby felt bigger or smaller. Even though I gained exactly 30 pounds with both kids, I said this one felt bigger. Sure enough, she was almost half a pound bigger even though she was two days earlier than Noah was! It's nice to know my intuition was correct all along!)

We asked for permission for early hospital discharge once we got to postpartum. We'd already spent one night in the hospital before she came, so spending two more felt like a lot. That being said, the one night we did spend with Rosie (well, "baby sister" because we hadn't chosen a name yet) was really sweet. Per our doula's recommendation, we actually didn't set an alarm for feedings that night. All I had to do was sleep, feed a baby, and sleep some more. She woke herself up every 3-4 hours, let out one cry, and waited for me to get her out of the bassinet. She'd nurse for 20-30 minutes and fall immediately back to sleep. It was glorious, and the postpartum bed even felt comfortable after a night in a labor bed! I'm so happy we get so experience those newborn wiggles, sighs, snuggles, and smells again!

Noah's Birthday

A year ago today, I was in this hospital in labor! If I really think about it, I can practically feel the contractions again. Labor is an intense, beautiful, elusive movement-- and labor endorphins? They're no joke! I could use another hit right now.

I know that labor and delivery can be traumatic and terrifying and the best laid plans can go awry in the blink of an eye. I have nothing but gratitude and thanksgiving for Noah's Birth Day. I will never take that experience for granted.

But the best part is, even though my sleep-deprived self craves that labor high and I still (yes, still) miss being pregnant and can't believe it's been a year already, I know the adventure has only begin. Getting to know the little man I met a year ago today? That's the real honor. Carrying and laboring and delivering are wonderful, but they aren't mothering.

I've been writing monthly letters to Noah, but today's is the last one. We made it to a year. His growth and development are accelerating too quickly, his hilarious shenanigans too frequent, to write down every single memory. So I will depart from the early milestones and the baby calendar and the *sniff* baby jammies and follow in the footsteps of my brave little boy: falling forward with a smile and trusting that my feet will catch up!

Happy 1st Birthday, Noah! The week we brought you home, I kept thinking, "surely I have seen the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." I love you so much. Thank you for being patient with me as I learn how to be your Mama!

Noah on his Birth Day and on his Birthday!

To Myself, 365 Days Ago (The Birth of a Mother)

This IS real labor, by the way.

mid-contraction before heading to the hospital June 4

You think Ross is taking the day off to set up the nursery tomorrow, but shit is about to get a lot more real than that. Spoiler alert: the nursery crib will not be assembled, nor will the kitchen countertops be installed before you become a mother. You might POSSIBLY know that somewhere deep down, because you sure did freak out about Ross needing to take a random Wednesday off of work.

But holy crap... denial is the best labor tool ever (although your doula is a close second).  But seriously. From the first painful contraction that came during shift report this morning, to 4:29pm tomorrow when you meet the little one who has been in there all this time, will stretch 33.5 hours of contractions. But you will really only feel like you're in labor for 4 hours, because that's the amount of time you officially had to wrap your head around the idea.

Four hours from the moment your Midwife said, "we're going to do a direct admit to L and D right now," to the moment it was suddenly all over. Just like that. And of course, "just like that" foreshadows the entire year to follow, as well.  

during our brief stay in L and D

Just like that, contractions give way to a chubby-cheeked cherub. Just like that, he goes from being a sleepy newborn to a colicky baby. Just like that, he goes from being a talkative wiggle-worm to a baby who can crawl and pull up and get into everything. Just like that, he grows from one size to the next, breaking your heart a little each time you have to change out the clothes. Just like that, 11 months in, occasionally starts to sleep through the night at last, and on those days you already start to forget the mind-numbing fatigue you felt from months 5-6 when he wouldn't sleep for more than 90 minutes at a time.

Let me just give you a hug right now. For 38.5 weeks, you thought labor was the end. But really, it's the very beginning. Not only was a baby born that sunny day in June that dawned after a stormy night, but two clueless parents were born as well. You and Ross didn't know it, but you were about to embark upon an anxious, overwhelming, wonderful, blessed, sleepless, tear-stained, hilarious, frustrating, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful year. It won't take you long to realize that your work experience is useless, and everything is new again when the baby under your care is your own, 24/7/365.

Welcome to the hardest and best year of your life. A year in which you will learn that all those annoying mom cliches are there for a reason. Time flies. They're not little for long. The days are long, but the years are short. You'll realize all of this fairly quickly, and you'll FEEL it all. The highs will be higher, the lows will be lower. Your heart IS walking around outside of your body, and it takes your breath away when you feel the weight of that. Sometimes the weight will be golden and awe-some, in a let's-have-5,000-more-babies sort of way. Other times it will feel impossibly heavy, like you are doomed to failure and no mere mortal should ever be given so much responsibility as to be the caretaker of a little soul.

You will start panicking that "he's already a year old" around 9 months and you will keep reminding yourself, we had only just bought our house this time last year... I was still hanging drywall this time last year... he flipped breech this time last year and I started swimming laps to encourage him to flip back...

Post-partum will kick your butt. You will go to physical therapy for muscles you neeever knew existed. Due to that pain, the first 6 weeks of newborn-ness will crawl by like one long, anxious, tightly-wound day. And when the haze ends suddenly, and time starts traveling at warp speed? You'll want those sweet, snuggly, blurry first 6 weeks back.

Just when you start to feel comfortable with one aspect of Noah's babyhood, everything changes. For better and for worse. Arching, crying, and screaming finally give way to a more comfortable baby when he starts Prilosec. Painful thrush and a poor latch give way to an awesome breastfeeding relationship. Post-partum pain gives way to extreme gratitude for body parts you used to take for granted. But also... exclusive breastfeeding, gives way to introducing solids. Happy wiggles give way to mobility. Two naps (which you fought for tooth and nail) will soon give way to one nap.

And the first year gives way to the second. You made it! Cue the waterworks.

Love,
me

Boy Meets World

I shared most of our pre-labor story during the 39 week update, but the rest of the narrative feels too private to share online. I will say, though, that the day Noah was born will always be one of the best days of my life.

**I debated for a long time whether or not to add photos to this post. I finally decided to add a few. (No TMI, don't worry!) They still feel really private and personal, but this blog is my scrapbook so I wanted to add a few here to help us remember this perfect day.**

We got admitted to Labor and Delivery around noon and had a baby in our arms 4 hours later. I simply could not have asked for a better delivery and I'm incredibly thankful for and humbled by it. It went far better than I could ever have imagined and it was nothing like I thought it would be. It's hard to even put feelings into words at this point, suffice to say I deserve no credit.

God granted me the incredible gift of focus and living in the moment, starting that Tuesday night. The 4 hours we spent in L and D went by in the blink of an eye. I was so present for each moment, albeit pretty tired and a little out of it by the time our little man showed up. I will always be grateful for that gift of presence.

I worried a lot during pregnancy about things like, "What if I die during labor? What would Ross do? What if the baby gets stuck or has a knot in his cord or has the cord wrapped around his neck or is stillborn or...?" All those absolutely terrifying thoughts were a million miles away when I actually went into labor and I honesty didn't remember those fears until weeks later, and then they were accompanied by nothing but relief and gratitude. The gift of "just being in it" was one of the best parts of Noah's birth day and the following days. My mind was, for once, blissfully clear and simply focused on the task at hand.

Some thoughts on labor in those last stages:

-I love my husband. Neither of us was sure how he was going to handle the hospital and potential blood and guts, but he was phenomenal. I was really bummed that house renovations took up a lot of what would've been baby preparation time. I wanted to read books and attend classes with Ross this past spring and it just didn't happen. He finally got with the program when our doula came over, which I'm so grateful for. Even though we didn't prepare for months and months, Ross was there for the whole labor, super involved, and so supportive. I couldn't have done it without him!

-WOW now I understand people who say water is nature's epidural. I didn't realize how tense I was until I got into the tub in L and D. I don't think I necessarily would've wanted to have a water birth (not that you're allowed to in the hospital anyway) but I absolutely loved being able to labor in the tub for a bit. I think it really made all the difference in my pain and endurance levels and gave me a bit of a break since I could truly relax between contractions. I'm bummed I wasn't able to get in the tub a second time since things were moving too quickly (at my hospital, you had to be put on the fetal monitor for 20 minutes out of every hour, which meant getting out of the tub). I'm very glad I didn't take a bath at home, because it would've been really hard to get me out and drag me to the hospital after experiencing that relief.

(Ugh. These hands. The same little hands I saw waving on my ultrasound at 35 weeks. Seeing these little fingers in real life made it all so... real. And amazing.)

 -Our doula was priceless. She was there full of suggestions when the baby flipped breech at 34 weeks. She was flexible with childbirth classes and came to our house to teach us (a total luxury given the complete craziness of our lives at the time). She kept in touch with me when labor started and was full of encouragement. She was present and active for every minute of my time in labor and delivery. She helped Ross stay informed and involved (I think he appreciated her even more than I did) and she really helped me focus toward the end when I had a few moments of panic. (She also took all these pictures to help us remember Noah's Birth Day!)

-Our Midwife was wonderful. Seriously, so knowledgeable and calm and encouraging. I felt completely SAFE in her hands and if Ross and I can replicate the dream team of our Midwife and our doula for our next child, we absolutely will.

-I don't feel any tougher for having gone through labor and delivery without an epidural or pain medication. I do feel incredibly grateful and also in awe of my body. Delivery is an absolute symphony and childbirth is a miracle. I don't take that for granted for a minute.

(Ahhh his little shouts!)

-I can't say enough how much of a difference it made to get a break between contractions. Labor wasn't one long continuous pain for hours on end! Also, the fact that labor pain was productive and serving a purpose, made it far different than any other pain I've experienced. I didn't really know what to expect going into labor, except for what I'd seen and heard at work. Being on the other end of it was not like I expected. They say labor intensifies your natural inclinations and for some people, that's LOUD! For me it was quiet and more meditative and drawn in.

(Ah-mazing Midwife)

-It was hard to comprehend that Noah was ours at first. Completely unbelievable. I just stared and him and kept saying, "he's so big!" Which I think was simply my way of saying, "he's so REAL. He's HERE. He's a PERSON!" He's the wiggle worm who was moving and growing in there the whole time. That blows my mind.

-Squishy newborn cheeks are the best.

-We had some extra cake left over from my family baby shower and my mom froze it and then brought it to the hospital after Noah was born. It was really fun to celebrate his birth day that way!

All in all, words can't express how special those first few days were. I'm so grateful I'm able to experience this all!

39 Weeks: The End, and the Beginning

Where to begin? I guess we left off with me feeling cautiously optimistic that maybe we'd make it to our due date and actually have time to get stuff done and take a breather before beginning the next chapter of our lives.

This week started with my brother's wedding on Saturday. All along everyone gave me a hard time about going into labor at the rehearsal dinner, and I'm happy to report the weekend went off without a hitch. In hindsight, we should've gone to bed earlier Friday and Saturday, but when your family is partying, you don't want to be the spoilsport! Also, the wedding was actually really fun and we're so happy for Tommy and Sarah!

(May 31)

So we were super tired on Sunday, but that's to be expected after several long days and late nights. That evening, our doula came over for the last bit of our childbirth class. When she left, I said, "I'm so not ready to be done being pregnant. I haven't hit the miserable point yet. I really love it and I'm going to miss it!" She laughed and said, "that's exactly why you're not even on my labor radar yet!"

(June 1... notice the nursery jam-packed with moving boxes...)

I had a ton of hip pain Sunday night and didn't sleep well at all, but I chalked it up to being on my feet all day Saturday. The hip and back pain continued into Monday, which I had planned to be a really productive day but I think making one freezer meal and running a few errands totally wore me out and I ended up taking an afternoon nap on the couch before meeting Ross at our hospital for a tour of Labor and Delivery (procrastinate much?!).

So... Saturday wedding. Sunday childbirth class. Monday hospital tour. Tuesday... I went into labor.

I say that in hindsight, of course, because I was totally in denial at the time. I started having painful contractions Tuesday morning at work. I'd had regular Braxton-Hicks contractions for months, so I wasn't really concerned at first. But these contractions continued to be just painful enough to make me take notice. It was really the perfect day to go into labor (besides, you know, being a good week or so earlier than I was mentally prepared for): I was at work in the NICU, so I had something to occupy myself with, but I had a really easy assignment meaning I got to sit when I needed to sit, and drink lots (and lots) of water.

(lopsided belly at work)

[As a funny aside, one of my patients was going home, and the baby had a due date just one or two days off from mine. He was 7 1/2 lbs and seemed huge to me. When his mom found out that my own delivery was imminent, she said, "as for a spinal the minute you get to the hospital. This sh*t is going to hurt!" Uhhh...How do you even respond to that?! ]

Throughout the day, the contractions continued to be frequent enough and "painful" enough that I timed them every few hours. (I put painful in quotation marks, perhaps because I now know how much more painful they were going to get, but also because they weren't really painful enough for me to stop what I was doing when it happened... just enough to make me take notice and take a deep breath). Anyway, they were 8-18 minutes apart all day.

I gave my doula a heads-up, but I really didn't think much of it. My Braxton Hicks always acted up during 12-hour shifts, so I figured this was going to be the same kind of thing... practice contractions, doing some of the work of labor (work that I wouldn't have to do later on in the hospital, as my doula always said) but not the real deal yet. I had big plans to go home, take some Benadryl, and go to bed.

Which is more or less what I did, after making a labor playlist and throwing some stuff into a hospital bag (maybe I knew something was really happening after all?). I went to bed around 11pm or so, only to wake up at 2am. There was a HUGE storm that night and I listened to the thunder and laid in bed for a few contractions before waking Ross up to time them. Then I proceeded to have a few painful hours of contractions lasting 1-2 minutes, and coming 5-6 minutes apart. I was really able to breathe through them, but they were significantly more painful compared to the ones I'd had all day. But again, it was a different kind of pain than I'd ever experienced. Maybe because it was productive pain instead of needless pain? I felt normal between the contractions throughout all of labor, which was an immense relief to me. The pain isn't continuous! It can and will end! Although as I laid there that night, I noticed my shoulders were starting to hurt from being clenched up and my abs were sore like I'd been doing situps.

(at 3:25am June 4)

I was planning to head to the hospital when either my water broke, or when contractions were one minute long and 4 minutes apart for one hour. Since neither of those was true, I laid there through the contractions, taking slow deep breaths. In hindsight maybe this is when you would typically go to the hospital. But whether it was my fatigue after the last few days, the Benadryl, or my straight up denial, I didn't even consider leaving the house yet. After an hour or two of those painful contractions, I got up and had Ross finish packing our hospital bags (again... procrastinate much?!)

Ross had actually planned to take Wednesday off to finish a few things around the house, put the crib together, unpack a few boxes... you know, important things. He said at this point, though, that if he didn't have the day off already he would've called in then. I was moving out of my denial a bit, but still thinking we had a ways to go. Yet I was literally praying, "God, make these contractions stop. Give us a few more days. I'm not ready!"

I managed to get up, make a smoothie, take a long hot shower and take a second Benadryl (I'd taken one capsule before bed earlier in the evening). By that point, I was comfortable enough to go back to bed, although it was a weird sleep. I feel like I slept seamlessly through the contractions, but was still coherent enough to feel each one before drifting off again. I woke up around 9am and the contractions were still just as painful, but had spaced out to 8-10 minutes apart.

I walked to the garden in our backyard with Ross to get some kale to eat with my eggs for breakfast, and the uneven ground was incredibly painful to walk on and basically gave me constant contractions as I walked out and back. I remember saying to Ross, "this is so painful! How on earth do people go on long walks in early labor?!" (Spoiler alert, I was not in early labor anymore!)

Around 10am I decided to call my Midwife's office just to be sure my water hadn't broken or anything (I always swore I'd never be one of those people who "wasn't sure" if her water was broken or not. Joke's on me!) The nurse called back and told me to come on in to be checked. I hemmed and hawed for a bit. Considered painting the kitchen cabinets that really needed painting. Considered baking brownies because I wanted to bring them to the hospital. Finally decided I should probably be seen before the office staff went to lunch, so we left the house around 11:15am.

(5 HOURS PRE-BABY! So oblivious. Photo taken mid-contraction.)

 I was really afraid they'd say I was crazy and send me home, but we also brought everything we'd need to stay and I think I knew deep down that we were leaving the house for good. But again, I was in denial. It was easier to say, "I'll bake the brownies when we get home later!" than to say, "the next time I walk through that door I will have a baby and life will never be the same again."

We got to the office around 11:45am and the elevators were being slow, so I said, "let's just take the stairs!" Up 4 flights. I had one or two contractions on that hike. I think that kicked things into gear again and from that moment on, my contractions started getting closer together. When we got to the office, they took me back pretty quickly. I went to sit on the exam table, but had a contraction again and stood up to bend over the table. (Ever since the end of my shift the day before, it hurt to sit during a contraction). Of course, that's when my Midwife walked in and I think she went into labor mode right then and there. She said, "oh, you didn't tell me you were having labor contractions!" I said, "I wasn't sure if I was!" She was like, "Um yeah those are not your Braxton-Hicks anymore."

She checked me and said, "well, your water's not broken, but you're 6cm dilated, 100% effaced, baby's at zero station, and we're going to direct admit you to labor and delivery right now!" All I heard was, "6cm... direct admission..." I started tearing up and it was all I could do not to sob. It was starting. We were going to meet our baby THAT DAY! I was shocked, elated, and... mostly shocked. Also relieved that the pain had been productive and I was over halfway there!!! Ross started tearing up, too, and I think we were both just completely in awe. This was real. It was really happening!

When Ross pulled my phone out to tell my parents we were being admitted, he noticed a missed call from our doula around 11:30am. He called her back to update her and she said she was calling to tell us that if we hadn't been checked yet, we should think about going in. She knows me so well. She said when I rated my overnight contractions at a 7 out of 10 on the pain scale, she knew it was the real deal. I just couldn't stop apologizing because all along, she'd said "don't be the hero. I don't want my first update to be your calling from the hospital." Ooops! But I legitimately didn't think I was in real labor yet until my Midwife said those words.

Then the nurse brought a wheelchair over to take us to L and D. Of course, I took one look at it and in my split second of hesitation, the Midwife said, "It's going to hurt to sit isn't it? You can walk if you'd rather." So we walked very slowly across to the hospital and I had very frequent contractions the whole way there. I'm glad we left the house when we did, because things had accelerated rapidly in that hour.

(family of THREE)

We were admitted Wednesday afternoon and had a baby four hours later. One of the best days of my life thus far! And that's the story of my 39th week of pregnancy... the day we would've been celebrating turning 39 weeks, we left the hospital with a baby instead. The end of this pregnancy, but a whole new beginning.

(baby cheeeeeks)