I told myself when I started this blog that I would always be honest with myself and my kids. If something made me sad or angry, I’d try to see it straight on and not simply try to entertain myself or others.
Last night I started having contractions. They were not at all evenly spaced or really even that hard, but I knew what they were and with Lily’s birth being so quick, we went ahead and called our midwife. She was still up when she got Mark's call at around 1:30 am and told him it was always hard for her to sleep when she knew she’d be getting a call. Within about forty minutes she was over and setting up her stuff, her assistant showed not long after. Mark built a fire in the court yard, we called my mom and Elizabeth and we got excited. I labored while walking, sitting, etc and noticed that when I talked to the baby and told him how excited I was to hold him, to touch his face, to see his perfect skin, the contractions would get harder and I was so… thrilled. But still, they weren’t “hard.” Around 4 am Elizabeth convinced me I needed to get some sleep and Mark and I crawled back into bed where I lay resting, still feeling my uterus doing it’s thing, listening to my husbands even breath behind me and enjoying the warmth of his front against my back. We would be holding our baby today.
I work around 5:45, restless and with my hips hurting… needing to move. I came upstairs to find everyone resting and after we all started milling about my Midwife asked me if I wanted to get checked. I thought it might be nice to see what kind of progress overnight had brought me and so eagerly agreed.
My cervix was closed for business.
The contractions came to a screaming halt as we talked about what this meant. I went downstairs to wake my husband and tell him that my labor had stalled and he would not be holding our baby today. I burst into tears, apologizing and feeling as though I had “done” something wrong. I came back up to get a bite to eat and allow Mark some more sleep and Jennifer (the assistant) was making pancakes. She told me that this happened with her three times with her third child and she understood what I was feeling. Nobody was disappointed in me, I was still going to be holding my baby soon. We all ate and joked as Vickii got her stuff together so she could go do her clinic shift. I went back to bed.
When I awoke, I got myself into the shower and started to bawl uncontrollably. What the hell is the matter with me? it’s not that I will never get to hold this baby, just not likely today. I hadn’t lost this child. I should be overjoyed to have some more time to be ready. That’s when I got the lesson: with Lily, we tried for the better part of a year to get pregnant and I got to the point where I cried every time I got my moon flow. When the stick finally said “YES” with her I cried in joy and did a big fat happy dance. This baby was conceived before we were really trying and I have felt a certain amount of anxiety about his or her birth. I have, at times, thought of this baby as unfortunate timing or spent too much time worrying about how it will all work out. As I wept in the shower I realized how desperately I want this child. I need this baby. I can’t wait to hold our baby and was mourning that it would not be today.
SO, hopefully lesson learned. Hopefully I can go into the “real” labor with anticipation and joy and cry tears of joy rather than concern. I know there are other lessons here, but right now, it’s time to go have some lunch and try to have a normal day.