Tuesday, my best friend's dad was having surgery at a hospital across town from where I'll be delivering. While we were sitting in the waiting room after they got word from the doctor that everything went well, I started to have some pretty steady contractions. I had been having sporadic contractions for a week or two, but they would happen an hour apart, then ten minutes, then an hour, then thirty minutes...super random. But these were steadily between about ten and fifteen minutes apart and a little more intense than I was used to, nothing crazy, but I had to breathe through them a little more. Of course, my best friend and parents were losing their minds in excitement...I was just trying to not get my hopes up.They had done this before, come for two or three in a row and then would just stop. So I was trying to not get too excited. But then they kept coming all the way home and into the evening. Hubby was working so my mom ended up coming over to stay with me when the contractions hadn't stopped at about 8pm. We tracked them and they had ended up dropping to about eight minutes apart by 11pm when I decided to try and get some rest.
After tossing and turning and not being able to fall asleep for almost an hour after every bathroom break, I got up and started to get ready for work. I mean, why sit at home and wait for contractions to come and then breathe through them? They really weren't that bad.
I got to work at 8am and by 10am they had dropped down to seven minutes apart. Then they dropped to six minutes apart. So I called my doctor. She said to come into the office so they could check me out. So I called Jim and he threw our hospital bags in the car and raced to pick me up from work. I left a half hour before my shift was supposed to end after calling my boss and him telling me "You better go to the hospital, girl!" I was excited, nervous, and expecting to be holding my baby boy soon.
Wrong.
We get to the doctor and they check my vitals, everything is perfect. Then the doctor comes in to check out what's going on. She says I'm not ready yet. The good/bad/annoying news was that I am only 2 cm dilated. It was good news because Friday I was at 0. It was bad because that meant no baby yet. It was annoying because I was thinking, "Well then why the heck are my contractions dropping at steady intervals like I'm in legitimate labor?!?" She said my body was just getting ready and we have plenty of time, I'm not even to my due date yet, so not to worry.
Oh, and side note: baby boy took great joy in kicking the monitor they had on my stomach to chart my contractions...he's already bothered enough by the contractions themselves and having something else pushing in on "his space" made him annoyed. So he kicked it. Repeatedly.
Only my son.
Gosh I love that kid.
But I want to meet my baby now. Humpf.
I've mentioned before that I'm not a patient person, haven't I?
She told us to go walk and try to get things moving a little quicker. We left her office and went to Moe's for lunch. I ate three cups of the hottest salsa they had, trying to smoke him out. We then walked around the mall for about an hour. We went on another walk this morning, and while we were watching a movie last night I sat on my Bosu ball in front of the couch in a squatted position. I'm doing everything I can think of to move things along, since apparently baby boy is ready. He's head down and ready to go, now my body just needs to do what it has to do.
The frustrating part is that I'm still having contractions every five to six minutes. Now, they aren't terrible. I just have to breathe through them and most of them I can just feel my stomach tighten. But, I have some that make me stop whatever I'm doing, close my eyes, and really focus on breathing slow and deep to get through it.
My boss told me this morning that I'm a tough little woman, but I don't feel like it. I feel tired. I feel frustrated. I feel anxious. But I don't feel tough.
I've just got to get through this last week of discomfort and pain and then I'll finally have my prize in my arms. He is so worth all of this, and I know that. It's just frustrating to think that you're about to meet your son....and then be told, nope, you're having contractions every five minutes, but your body isn't doing what it's supposed to yet, so it's not time.
I'm trying to stay positive. I'm trying to stay focused. I'm trying to not get discouraged. But I'm getting exhausted. Almost 2 days of contractions and nowhere near ready still.
But I can't think like that! I have to remember that I have gone through SO MUCH these past nine months and this last week maybe the longest week of my life, but it will end, and it will end with us finally meeting our son. Hearing his cry. Seeing those little feet kick. Kissing his face. The finish line is so close, and I can't let myself stumble and fall now. I have to push through this.
We're almost there. I can see the finish line, and I know the little prize waiting for me is more than worth all I'm going through right now. I just have to not let myself forget that.
XOXO,
Courtney
Before our latest doctor's appointment last Friday, I was 38 weeks and 4 days
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