Photo by Debbie Kilduff at Sonoran Lane Photography
My mom had come and gone. After all, it was two days before Christmas and she needed to get home to her other children. A week is a long time to wait for a baby who is already past due. So I hugged my mother, Princess hugged her grandma and "roommate," and My Stud loaded her luggage in the truck and took her to the airport.
More waiting. More resisting the urge to time contractions. Even though this baby seemed to be happily nestled - or shall we say crammed - inside my belly, I felt like I had been in and out of labor for days. Contractions were growing in intensity daily, bringing unwelcome flashbacks of the arduous, painstaking labor that brought us our first daughter. (Pitocin is the devil and don't let anyone talk you into it. But if anyone does talk you into it,even if you had some ideal of doing it without meds, please feel completely free of guilt when you accept the epidural. And don't bother waiting until you feel like climbing up the side of the bed. I digress...)
Midnight.
My contractions became painful enough to wake me. They're were close enough together to keep me from falling asleep. I walked. I layed. They didn't cease and they didn't ease up. I think I told My Stud at some point. Then I took a bath. Enveloped in warm water, my contractions felt so much less intense, and found myself wishing that I was having a water birth. Lost in thought, it took me awhile to realize that my contractions were getting shorter, weaker, and farther apart. No! I immediately got out of the bathtub. By this time, My Stud had already checked off the remaining items on our packing list. The one that we had been adding to for a couple of weeks out of sheer boredom.
Nope. My contractions were not returning to their previous strength and duration. I still timed them religiously. By now, it was about 4 a.m. Dejected, I decided to lay down on the couch to catch a few winks before the sun came up.
It was Christmas Eve.
When I woke up three hours later, there was no sign of an even a single Braxton Hicks.
I don't remember what we did most of that day. I wanted to throw things at any woman who had ever given birth to a child before the due date. That, and we decided for sure that, baby or no baby, we would not be attending the family Christmas Eve celebration or Christmas day brunch. There was a mild virus going around the family, and though it was not a big deal, we didn't want Princess nice and sick just in time to welcome her baby sister into the family. Likewise, at that point, the mere thought of pushing out a baby while under the weather was almost enough to render me unconscious. It was a hard decision, laced with guilt. But thankfully the side of me that is not a people pleaser is most pronouced late in pregnancy, so that helped my resolve to make a necessary decision to protect our new little one. You know. If she ever decided to show up.
3:00 p.m.
This is where my memory kicks into high gear. My Stud was on the couch, taking advantage of Princess's naptime to catch up on some missed sleep from the night before. I was busy writing out Christmas cards to all the family members we would be missing. (We had planned to give framed family photos with our two daughters for our we-can't-afford-real-Christmas-gifts-because-we're-moving-in-two-weeks Christmas gifts. But since that was not to be...yet...we decided to send some pretty cards in our absence.)
During the card writing, it was the same old story: contractions, trying not to time them in order to keep my sanity, more contractions. Okay. It was starting to feel a lot better to get up and walk around between cards. I was as determined to finish the cards as I was to not be fooled by yet another false labor. Hmm...I have to go to the bathroom, followed by, Weird. I usually only get the runs once or twice a year. I hope i'm not coming down with something. Ooo I'll be just ticked!
I think I waited until My Stud woke up from his nap. Then I told him something about not getting his hopes up, but I'd been having awful contractions for the past hour and if this isn't the real thing then I'm going to rip out my hair. More contractions, more walking. Walking felt sooo good.
When Princess woke up, we decided to deliver our cards for the Christmas Eve party at My Stud's dad's house. And then we'd visit for a hour or two before the party. While we were there, we opened a few gifts. I do remember that part, though some other details are fuzzy. Mind you, I was up and down with each contraction because I so dispised sitting during them. I especially remember Princess getting a adorable, sweet-smelling baby doll. I kept thinking, I hope I'll be getting one of those today too!
Some time after 6 p.m. I was pretty sure this was the real thing, and I announced that I was ready to go home. After I ate a Christmas cookie.
Once home, things got progressively worse quickly enough that I informed My Stud he had better see if his mom could come over a littler earlier than previously discussed (she lives almost an hour away). And that was probably the best decision of the night.
To be continued...
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