It was Saturday morning...THE Saturday morning. You know...May 8th...my due date. As an expecting mommy, you literally count down every single second until you get to meet your new baby. Here it was...the day I was waiting for. Yet, there was no baby, and no real good signs she was coming anytime soon, either.
I remember waking up and laying in bed that morning--feeling utterly hopeless and really down. I just wanted to meet my little girl so bad it hurt. It was about 9:30 in the morning (we were taking advantage of sleeping in), and I prayed a short prayer to myself, "Please God...pleeeeease. I know these contractions can start any minute. Give me something--anything..."
At 9:45am I had a pain. A very, very, obvious contraction. It started in my lower back, radiated around to my front, shot around my thighs/hips-and went up my belly. Exactly how everything I had read explained it would feel-like the most intense menstrual cramp. It was undeniably a contraction much different then the braxton hicks I'd been experiencing all through this pregnancy. I laid there, and although I was in pain--I got excited.
Was my prayer really answered this quick?!?!
I took note of the time...and prayed, and prayed for another one to come...
It did...about 8 minutes later. Then, another one came...8 minutes later. This went on for a little while before I decided to wake Declan and let him know the news. He also got excited, and up and out of bed we both went...making sure that we really had those bags packed and everything together in case this was "it". Declan hopped in the shower, and I continued timing them. I knew that something was going on...as they were getting more and more painful. But, they weren't getting closer and closer together.
In fact, after a few hours of this...things started slowing down a little bit.
I got super discouraged again.
Knowing that things were obviously starting to happen in my body (whether consistent or not), Declan really needed to head to work for just a little while to get his department ready for him to be off work for a week. So, since things were slowing down with me (and he's only a phonecall away and literally a 10 second drive), I had no problem with that. While he was gone, my contractions slowed down to 15 minute intervals.
I was so upset...and all I heard ringing in my ear was the saying "real labor only intensifies...false labor slows down and can go on for days or weeks". Was this false labor? But it felt so REAL.
While Declan was gone I took Mac for two different walks...I bounced on my birth ball...I was doing anything to try and get those contractions back again. When Declan came home around 2pm that afternoon, we bummed around the house while I had a contraction here or there, watched movies, and I may or may not have let out a few little cries. My due date was here, and was quickly about to pass.
I insisted that we go out that evening to walk....anywhere....to do anything. It was a nasty-stormy kind of night, so to the Mall we went. We ate in the food court, we walked from store to store, we even bought Declan a new pair of jeans and shorts he needed. During all this, my contractions were back again at about 8-9 minute intervals. I tried to push away any excitement that this could lead to anything, because of how let-down I'd been earlier.
The contractions kept coming at about 8-9 minute intervals all night until 6am that morning. So, as for sleeping...that didn't quite happen for me. I was up, on my computer, walking around the house...doing anything else but lying in bed focusing on each pain that came and went. I even took a shower, blow dried and straightened my hair, because I was sure "this was it". It was only a matter of time before the contractions went down to the magic number of 5 minutes apart.
Yet again....those freaking contractions stopped. Just, dead stopped.
At the time, I was ticked off. But, I decided that heck--I should call my doctor anyway to let them know whats going on.
Since it was after hours (and now Sunday morning and Mothers Day) I had to leave a message with the call center. I waited for the call back from one of my doctors (I go to a practice with 4 female doctors on rotation). When she called back, I proclaimed, "This was the weirdest 24 hours of my life. I think I'm in labor...but I have no idea."
She asks me to explain the details. I did.
She almost seemed bothered when she called (to an overly-hormonal-me) and I hated the way she made me feel...as if I was a stupid first time mom. Well guess what? I am a first time mom, and how the heck will I possibly know how things feel when I've never.done.this.before?
Then she said that freaking thing that I dreaded hearing:
"Katie...this isn't real labor. Real labor will not slow down. It will only intensify and contractions will get closer and closer together. This isn't it."
I basically hung up on her and burst into big.ugly.tears. I called my mom right away (on her birthday and Mothers day!) and bawled like a freaking baby over how stupid the doctor made me feel, and how "I'll never have this baby", and how miserable and tired I was....and "I hate my body for lying to me!".....
...and my mom sat on the other end of the phone and just listened....and cried with me. She knew how frustrating this was for me...she knew how much I've been anticipating her arrival...and she knew I was plain exhausted from getting no rest whatsoever.
I crawled back into bed and sobbed in Declan's arms. He rubbed my back and told me it would be soon...and to rest and relax since I hadn't slept at all that night.
I drifted off to sleep from about 7am-11am---and little did I know how badly I would need those 4 hours of sleep.
The story is quite long....stay tuned for Part 2....