39 Weeks and Counting

I’m fairly certain the only people that read this blog already know the things I’m about to post anyway, but I do love reading these things about other people’s pregnancies, especially towards the end so I’m going to be honest about the last week and try to record some for my own memories.

Last Thursday, December 4th, I started having contractions about five minutes apart. Okay, so I’ve had Braxton hicks contractions for weeks and weeks. I know the difference. Even some of those were quite painful and consistent, enough so that I’d hop in the bath and time them, but after an hour they would die down so I knew it wasn’t the real deal. Thursday they were intense. I knew exactly what they were but was a little bit in denial. The first hour I tried to ignore them as I continued to work and didn’t tell David what was going on.

He came home for lunch right in the middle of one and immediately asked me what was going on and for how long. At that point, I decided it might really be happening – against my wishes to not have this baby that weekend because I had so much fun Birthday plans with little Belle. I got in the shower, thinking they would stop. Nope, they got more intense. I convinced David to let me wait another hour to be sure. Within that hour I was miserable and they were getting closer to 4 minutes apart. So we called Sister #4 to sit with Annabelle and headed to get checked out (after I changed Belle’s sheets and asked David to unload the dishwasher of course).

We got to the hospital and I felt like a fool telling the front desk that “I think I’m in labor.” They told me to sit down and someone would be right out. I was so uncomfortable at this point I couldn’t sit down. When the nurse came to take me back, she immediately asked how long this had been going on and how long my first delivery was. She watched me through one contraction and said she thought we might be meeting our daughter within a few hours. So she checked me – I was at a 4 – and hooked me up to be monitored for an hour. This hour was tough!

She let me stand instead of laying in the bed because this was more comfortable to me. During this hour, my contractions were steady at just three minutes apart and have high peaks. I know everyone says this, but I really do have a high pain tolerance. These were painful. She came back in, looked at the strip of paper with my contractions and started asking me all the questions about being admitted. Would I want an epidural, do I prefer to stand, etc. She said she needed to check me before she could admit me. 

And guess what….nothing! She looked at me in shock and said I was still a 4 and that since I was 37 weeks and 6 days pregnant, they would need to see some progression. So we walked the halls for an hour which felt better than just standing in the room and got checked again. Nothing. By this time she suggested we try one more hour and check again. I was exhausted by this point, and I knew in my heart that it wasn’t the day I was going to meet my daughter (at least not without some interventions that I didn’t want to go through if it wasn’t necessary). So we asked if we could leave, promising that if things picked up or got more painful, I would rush back. She told us she wanted the doctor to make that decision, not her, and that she thought we would be right back. Well, we weren’t.

We went to Texas Roadhouse because I’m obsessed with their sweet potatoes. I knew things were tapering off because I was hungry and could sit in the booth. We went home to Annabelle and my mom was worried about leaving, thinking we would be turning right around to go back, but I knew the excitement of the day was done. That night in the night I had painful contractions, but nothing consistent enough. And since then, it’s been such a rollercoaster.

Yesterday my contractions were ten minutes apart for four hours – like clockwork. And by 6 they were 8 minutes until 9 when I decided to try to go lay down. I woke up a few hours later with two painful contractions close together, but then was able to walk them out and go back to bed. This has been my night on repeat for over a week. And each morning, I wake up to not being in labor and head into work. It’s crazy to me. I never really knew what false labor was I guess.

I’m trying hard to soak up every last detail of our life right now. We don’t plan to have more children so I’m trying to just enjoy these kicks and these feelings. I am soaking up our evenings with Annabelle and love putting her to bed each night. And when I’m up pacing with these contractions I sneak in and look at her and wonder if it’s her last night as my only daughter. I know this little miss will be here on the very perfect day and her Birthday has been planned out long before I even knew I was pregnant. But in the meantime, send me some good vibes, would ya? I’m getting to be one pretty tired momma.