Now, up until that point, I had never experienced any Braxton Hicks, so I thought maybe I was finally feeling those. (After all, I was only 37.5 pregnant. First time moms NEVER go into labor, naturally, that early.) What did the contractions feel like? For me, I felt it all in my hips. That contraction (and all the rest that followed) didn't feel like a cramp, and it didn't feel like a tightening. It felt like an ache, in my already aching hips. But it had a beginning, and it had an end, so I knew it was...something.
I made note of it, and continued making breakfast and getting ready for work. Exactly 20 minutes later, I had another one, and again 20 minutes after that. I made note of those ones as well, but didn't tell Art, because I didn't feel that there was anything to tell. I had three light contractions, and I knew it didn't necessarily mean anything was going to happen. (I also had some bloody show, so with that combination, I knew that I would probably have the baby that week, but I didn't assume it would be that day.)
I went to work, and continued timing them as I felt them, while also trying to get some work done. They were anywhere from 5 to 30 minutes apart. (I think some of them were so mild that I couldn't quite distinguish them from the discomfort I was already feeling.) After a few hours of that, I finally decided to talk to my supervisor. I wasn't sure if should stay at work or not. I mean, I could work just fine. But what should I do?
She told me to call my midwife, and my midwife told me to go home and see if a change of activity would change anything, and to update her as needed. So I went home (and lied to my coworkers about why I was leaving. I didn't want everyone to get all excited only to have me show up at work the next day, still pregnant).
I then proceeded to clean the entire apartment, and I went to Target, and I blogged, and I napped, and the whole time, I was having mild contractions that didn't bother me at all. They did eventually settle into a 5-minute pattern, but I still wasn't convinced that I was in real labor.
I called Art, and my friend Sozan, just to give them a head's up, just in case. I also talked to my mom, and spent a lot of time on Facebook, emailing with friends (mostly Callie, who was excited and curious and wanted to know all the details).
At 3:10 the contractions started getting stronger (yes, I remember the exact time, because I wrote down on my paper "just got stronger"). It was at that point, or shortly after, that I didn't want to sit anymore, but I still wanted to use the laptop. So I grabbed a box from the closet, set it on the coffee table, and put the laptop on the box so I could stand at the computer.
By 6:00 the contractions got stronger again, and I had to start pacing. I walked in circles around the island in our kitchen, and then when the contraction was over, I would walk back over to the laptop and continue whatever I was doing. (I figured out very quickly that I could only walk clockwise around the island. I tried walking counter clockwise, but I felt like it made the contraction worse. I don't know what happens to a woman's brain during labor that makes those details so important, but that's what worked for me.)
[I took this picture at 7:30 pm. I had been in labor for 13 hours. Five hours after snapping this photo, Sophia was born.]
Art got home around this time, and for a while, he just watched me do my thing. I don't think he knew what to think, and I didn't need any help during my contractions just yet, so he spent most of the evening on the computer, waiting for...I don't know. I guess he was waiting for something to change, or for me to need his help.
Another hour went by, and I asked Art to start timing the contractions, because I needed to call my midwife again. I knew by this time that I was in real labor, and even though I assumed I had a long night ahead of me, I thought she should know that things were finally progressing, and I needed to give her details.
She kept me on the phone for several minutes so she could hear me have a couple of contractions. She basically wanted to know if I could talk through them, which I could. (I didn't want to, but I could.) She deduced that I wasn't in serious labor yet, and told me I had two options at that point: I could have her come over and sweep my membranes and really get things going, or I could do whatever I needed to do to relax and stop labor, get some sleep, and continue labor in the morning.
I was discouraged at this point, because labor seemed serious to me, and I hadn't wanted to be "that" woman who overreacted to early labor. She told me to think it over, keep timing the contractions, and to call her back in an hour with my decision.
It wasn't long before I decided that pacing during the contractions wasn't helping, so I got on my hands and knees and rested my face against a yoga ball, and simply breathed through each contraction. Art left the computer and started encouraging me, and reminding me to take deep long breaths. I didn't even ask him to do that, he just seemed to know that I needed his help now.
After a few of those contractions, I told him I wanted to get into the bathtub. I could no longer relax during a contraction, but I needed to be able to relax between contractions.
And once I got in the tub?
Things changed VERY quickly. Suddenly I was yelling for Art to "Make the water hotter!" "Get me a cool cloth for my face!" "Come back and press on my back!" "Keep timing the contractions!" "Squeeze my hands!" "Harder!" "No, that's not working!" I was also vocalizing through each contraction, and I needed the counter pressure on my lower back, and my poor husband... :) (He was overwhelmed, but I think he did a great job.)
He got in touch with my friend Sozan, and she and her husband finally showed up. I think her husband was a little worried. I mean, not one of us had ever witnessed or heard a woman in labor before, so he kept wondering if everything was okay, and if what he was hearing was normal.
Art had to call my midwife, because I couldn't talk anymore. While he was on the phone with her, my contractions changed, and suddenly I was having pushing contractions. (I have no idea when I went through transition.) My midwife heard me in the background, and told us to get to the Birth Center ASAP.
[Btw, I read somewhere that pushing contractions feel like vomiting, but downwards. And for me, that's exactly what it was like. The sudden tightening, the involuntary grunt...I actually thought I was going to throw up at first. Then I realized what was happening. And it's unstoppable. I couldn't resist them if my life depended on it. Also? The pushing contractions felt good. Maybe it's because the dominating sensation was the push, and I didn't notice the pain.]
Here's where it gets hilarious. Art had to convince me to get out of the tub and get dressed, which was the last thing I wanted to do at this point, but I knew I needed to. I ended up sitting on the toilet and having contractions there while Art attempted to clothe me. (At one point, I yelled at him to get out of the bathroom, because I was trying to go to the bathroom. Which I didn't exactly explain. Poor guy...)
He managed to get me into underwear and pants, but when he wanted to put socks on me, I yelled that I didn't want to wrestle with socks. In my mind, the socks were too tight, and it seemed like it would take a lot of effort to put them on. So barefoot into my shoes I went.
Then Art wanted me to put on a shirt, but again, it seemed like it would be really constricting, and I was NOT interested. I requested a zip-down sweater instead, and he complied. I should mention that this was at 10:30 at night, in the middle of March. I wasn't dressed for the weather at all, but I didn't care.
Art and my friends packed up the car, and in between contractions I still had the clarity of mind to tell Art to put a towel in the passenger seat, just in case. Once everything was ready to go, my friend Sozan held out her hands to me and said in her sweet, gentle way, "Okay Jenene, after your next contraction, I'm going to help you to the car."
Yeah, that didn't happen either. After the next contraction, I bolted right past her, out the door, ran down three flights of stairs, and waddled as fast as I could to the car. I did not want to be on the staircase, outside of someone's apartment when I had my next contraction. I made it to the car, got in the passenger seat kneeling, facing backwards, and?
My water broke.
Stay tuned for Part 2...
