The day Finola was born was a Sunday.
Since 3:42pm on Saturday I had been having consistent and much more uncomfortable Braxton-Hicks contractions. Since they weren't stopping I kind of knew something was happening...but they also weren't getting any stronger so I wasn't about to rush to the hospital. Paul kept asking, "Are you having contractions? Is it going to be today?" All excited. I could only clutch my gigantic uncomfortable rock of a tummy and respond, "Who knows?" as I had all the other times he had asked.
We went to church. I prayed for strength during labor and, honestly, strength during the next year of raising two little ones. I knew I would need it!
Paul and I chatted afterward about the names - were we still 100%? We wrote out the names, even tried out different spellings of each one. But, in the end, both liked our original choices. Boy or girl, we knew what the babe would be named.
When I put Cormac down for his nap that afternoon the BH contractions stopped, which had me puzzled. Maybe today isn't the day after all, I mused. Then I decided to take a nap, given my body had relaxed enough to do that. Pretty amazing how your body knows you need to rest up for something, right? It is as if it knew I needed the extra rest and energy for what was to soon come. And I mean very soon.
Immediately after my nap the BH contractions began again.
At around 4pm, after Cormac was up, I bid Hubby and him goodbye and I headed out for my normal Sunday afternoon "me time" - when I get to go out by myself, shop or do whatever I'd like. Hubby asked if it was really a good idea to do this since I was having the consistent yet mild contractions and I had responded, "Absolutely! It might be my last chance in quite a while!"
So off I went. First stop - Babies R Us. I wandered around, talked on the phone, texted Hubby, picked out a bunch of cute baby girl outfits, and timed my contractions. 8-10 minutes apart. Still very mild.
After filling my basket with sweet baby girl things I sighed and put them all back, deciding the baby would probably be a boy and I didn't know when I'd have time/energy to return all of it.
I left the store emptyhanded and headed next door to Michael's craft store. I purchased Cormac a bunch of fun, cheap, outdoor toys and games as sort of a "big brother gift." Things I knew he'd like and we could entertain ourselves with in the backyard. I left the store feeling happy. Oh, and slightly more uncomfortable.
Then I went to the next store in the strip - Half Price Books. This is where things got real. I had barely walked in when I felt my first real contraction. I stopped short, gasped a little, and breathed through it. I noted the time - 5:45pm exactly. The contraction lasted about thirty seconds but was different than anything I had felt prior to. I continued to shop, not wanting to jump the gun. Six minutes later I felt it again. Then six minutes later. I began to get excited! Consistency! Actual pressure! I remembered this particlar pain from last time.
Despite all the 'contraction distraction' I purchased a couple things and headed back to my car, continuing to track the increasingly painful and uncomfortable contractions. They hurt but I would say were only about a 5 on the pain scale. I could still drive and function.
Here are my texts with Hubby, for your enjoyment, and for me to marvel at how quickly things progressed. As you can see, Hubby didn't really think it was "the day" - which he now says was reverse psychology....
The contractions continued as I drove home, and I called my doula. She said to call her as soon as my friend got there to watch my son and we would meet at the hospital. She did not think there was any time to labor at home. (There went my birth "plan!")
My twenty minute drive home was a blur of contractions and phone calls.
I called Paul and told him it was time. He was completely excited and said he would start loading up the car. I confirmed with Melissa that yes, I was in labor, and she should head over.
I called my midwives' office and left a message and Trish, who I mainly saw, was on call and got back to me within minutes. I told her we would be on our way and reminded her I was at 6cm at my last check.
By the time Melissa got to our house we were packed and I was nearing a 7 on my pain tolerance scale. I had to lean on something and brace through the pain, swaying, and completely silent.
I knew we had to hurry. Baby was coming. It was about 7:30pm. I kissed Cormac about twenty times, knowing he didn't understand and probably thought I was crazy. But I kissed him and hugged him tight and smelled his hair and finally let him go as he tried to wriggle out of my arms.
My last time seeing him as my only baby.
Then we rushed out the door.
Next up:
part 3 - {the short, sweet, and painful labor}
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