Friday, May 6
At some point today I became DONE. 41 weeks, 1 day and THE END. I am no longer in a good mood and find humor in my situation.
I'm not sure what exact item or event pushed me over the edge, but everything annoys me, nothing makes me happy and opening my eyes makes me anxious about all kinds of stupid things that nobody except for me cares about.
It might have been the funny looks people gave me at the hamburger place at lunch. (Yes! I know that I am very, very pregnant! I am still going to eat this cheeseburger, dumbass.) It might have been someone giving me very well-meaning advice I hadn't asked for. It might have been Claire throwing a fit about a tennis racket. It might have been the off and on, going nowhere contractions I'd been having since Monday and continued to have today. It might have been the idea that even though I've done so much and prepared myself for so many outcomes I am still going to get screwed and have to be overly managed through this labor and delivery and and basically I am such a failure at this whole entire being pregnant thing because I cannot even get the baby out on my own. FAIL FAIL FAIL.
I remember feeling that way last time. At some point I stopped caring about my principles and research and desires and I just wanted to do something, anything. I wanted to yell at people that I AM FINE and THANK YOU I DON'T NEED ANYTHING when really I am not fine and I need a whole lot but I'll never, ever tell you that because I know everyone is already doing a lot for me in the first place.
Obviously, it follows that Friday afternoon I had a mini-breakdown where I cried silent, hot tears of frustration that had been building for days. It was hot, I was cranky, I was tired. I felt enormous and I was certain that we'd get through the weekend and have to induce early the next week. I was mad about that.
I vented on Twitter, which is something I try not to do in general, but I could not help it that day.
Because Jennie is such a wonderful person and she always knows exactly what people need, she asked if I wanted some company tonight. Dessert? Dinner? Anything I wanted, she was game for. And damn, THANK GOODNESS for friends like that. She came over and we had dessert and she had a glass of wine and we hid upstairs away from everyone else and just chatted about things that had nothing to do with pregnancy. The entire time I had to stand up because I was having contractions, but, again, I totally wrote them off. I am sure she thought I was crazy.
After Jennie left, I got ready for bed and tried to go to sleep at about 10. My contractions were semi-painful but they'd been that way before. If I just stayed put I figured they'd go away and I could sleep soon.
Except...they didn't go away. And, in fact, they were kind of hurting. Maybe a lot? I got out of bed and went into the living room. I read the entire internet. (Well, I read what was in my reader and then I didn't know where to go to find more, quality internet to read.) Gosh, these contractions really do sort of hurt. Maybe I should time them? I get out my iPhone and the contraction timer app. After an hour I can see that they are seven minutes apart. Huh. And, GAHHHHHH, that one sort of hurts more than the others did.
Where is that stupid paper they gave me that says when to go to the hospital? Should I be thinking about going to the hospital? I want to do most of my laboring at home if this is the real thing (which, obvs is not because I am not that lucky) but JUST IN CASE, what was it again? Oh, 5 minutes apart. Well, we are not there. See? I told you it wasn't the real deal.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
I try to go to bed again at 1am, THREE HOURS after the contractions start. Can't. They hurt too much. Back to the living room I go. At some point I decide that I would like to sit on a yoga ball but I don't have one and then I see one of Claire's big bouncy balls and I'm like YES! I will totally sit on that! (Here's where the crazy/irrational begins to set in.) I sit on her ball and I bounce around and rock back and forth not because it hurts but because I'd like to move the baby downward with these contractions and get SOMETHING out of them since obviously it is not labor.
OBVIOUSLY, I AM AN IDIOT.
So there I am, sitting on a child's purple, polka-dotted bouncy ball from Walmart that was $2.50, laptop on the ottoman because it's low (the bouncy ball is like 24" diameter so I have to put my laptop somewhere so I can type on it), having contractions 7 minutes apart in the dark at 1 am, for going on three hours. I am 100% convinced that this is not labor.
At 220 am, I decide that screw this, I am tired and I am going to go to bed, contractions be damned. I will triumph over these stupid fake contractions! I lay in bed and they hurt and they come every seven minutes but eventually I fall asleep.
About 320 I wake up because of a contraction. It hurts. (I know, you are surprised.) I stand up. I feel a sort of gush of watery fluid. Hmmm, was that my water breaking? Maybe? I don't know. I go to the bathroom to check it out. I can't really...tell anything. But my pajama pants are soaked and I need new ones so I put some on. I walk around a little more. If it wasn't my water breaking then...what was it? This is a question I decide not to ponder too much and I just avoid it. If this is really labor, then my contractions will pick up and I'll know then that it was really my water breaking. Yes, THEN is when I will be able to tell and when that happens I will wake Chris up. Because I am tired and stupid, I think this is a good plan.
I have some more contractions. Because I am in a great deal of denial I still can't really decide if this is labor. I Google stupid things that I already know the answer to like, "Do I have to go to the hospital if I think my water broke?" For some reason I am very worried about going to the hospital and having them send me home. I fret. I bounce on the Walmart ball some more.
All of my activity eventually wakes Chris up. What are you doing, he says. Well, I think my water might have broken. But I can't tell. I mean, MAYBE it did. This snaps him awake pretty fast but he cannot understand the part about how I'm not sure if my water broke. Was I...peeing when it happened? No, I just stood up and it was, you know, gushy. But I'm not sure if that's what it actually was. It didn't seem like ENOUGH fluid. And just then, while I was standing in the closet I have another contraction and there's an enormous gush of fluid and Chris is like, well, I think we have our answer. (He's always been the smart one.)
I worry that this is still unproductive labor, since the contractions have been the same for so many hours. I worry that I will arrive and there will be no progress for a long time and I'll still end up hooked to an IV of Pitocin right away. I worry that I've been awake all night and I might be awake all of the next night too, if this labor is long, and I am already so, so, so tired. Stupid water breaking first thing.
He takes a shower and I take a shower. We pack some things up. I open the Google doc of "Things to take to the hospital" that I typed up weeks ago, thinking I'd never need this list since I was going to end up induced anyway. We find all of the iPhone chargers and cameras. We both forget our toothbrushes. We get in the car and he drives me the 6 miles to the hospital at 345 am. We leave my mother and Claire sleeping upstairs.
We have to go in the ER door, because all of the other doors lock at 9 pm. I tell the triage nurse that my water broke and I need to go to L&D. There is an EXTREMELY intoxicated woman in the waiting area with a busted up toe. While we are waiting for L&D to fetch me, she tells us that she busted her toe on a door in a club and she also had a lot to drink tonight and her toenail is almost ripped off and she really did drink a lot of alcohol before coming here tonight. Like, really, A LOT of beer. I am moderately amused by her.
A chatty nurse with glasses like Lisa Loeb brings a wheelchair over. She takes us to Labor and Delivery and things start feeling legit. We are at the hospital. This is really happening.
We are going to have a baby today.