I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting the past couple days and remembering what my life was like this time last year. It has gone through so many changes, that I would not change for the world. I often think back about the day E decided he was ready. I reminisce about my whole labour experience frequently. I still look back at it in awe and see it as the greatest accomplishment of my life. I’d imagine over the next day or two I will have a few reflection posts. But today I’ve been thinking a lot about this exact day in 2010. I came across the notepad that J used to track my contractions and it certainly did not feel like it was as quick as the paper now shows me it was. I just stare in awe at the numbers J so diligently recorded. It’s the only thing he could do and I’m glad to have this memory in paper format so I can look back and just see things clearly. So here I go.
One year ago today it was Father’s Day & E decided he was ready to join the world. I however, would have liked a memo warning me of this early arrival but that’s beside the point now. But for next time universe, remember, I would like a memo.
I woke up at 4:17am on June 20th and thought my water might have broken. Turns out, yup, it did.
I was sent home from the hospital after doing some monitoring and was told that I would have a baby within 24 hours. Shocked doesn’t even describe the words I was feeling. I got to sit around for about 12 hours before the “action” began. I called Mom and friends and napped and farted around on the internet, waiting. Just waiting.
I had no idea what I was waiting for but somehow the shock and fear turned into peace and excitement. I knew I had no control over what happened next but I knew my body was built for this. I just had to trust in that and relinquish the control I like to have over everything. I am a planner. I like knowing what is going to happen and this is certaintly unrealistic in labour & delivery. I knew this. So I just braced myself and waited.
Finally (as you can see in the photo), I finally had a contraction that was worth timing. None of these little twinges I had been having for days that I thought was stress induced (major drama happening at work). I finally had something that I knew was a contraction. I grabbed J’s hand and so started our journey. For real. No more waiting.
Looking back now at these papers I can’t get over how fast it was. I had 1 hour of random contractions and then went straight to every 3 min, lasting approx. 45 secs. Seriously? Just throw me right in the middle of things. No ramping up. Just full throttle.
But the biggest thing that sticks out to me now is: why in God’s name did we not head to the hospital shortly after 6!? Why did we wait until 7:30? The answer. Denial. I did not want to have to get sent home from the hospital. I didn’t want to go in too early. I for some reason still thought I’d get turned away. I figured there is no way it’s time to be admitted because I’d only been contracting for a little over an hour. But honestly, the biggest reason, I did not want to leave the comfort of my tub.
But seriously, if I didn’t have my doula telling me it was time to go I wonder when I would have went. I don’t know if J could have convinced me on his own to get up out of the tub and head to the hospital. I really don’t. And to be honest with you, the idea of labour #2 scares me (whenever that may be). How on Earth can it go any quicker?! Ok, I know how and it probably will but seriously!? Ack! I do know better for next time. Maybe we should just camp out in the parking lot. haha