False alarm

I know this is pretty common, but throughout my pregnancy, I've counted the weeks up, feeling grateful for every one completed. I know women who have delivered at 25, 28, 32 weeks, with scary outcomes that (thank the Lord) ended well, but only after long, long hospital stays.

So throughout this pregnancy, I've coached my body: just make it to 30 weeks. Just make it to 34. Just make it to 36.

At my most recent appointment with the midwife, she told me her policy on delivering at home, so I had a new coaching mantra: For the love of all that is holy, just make it to 37 weeks.

As you may recall, I made to to exactly 37 weeks with J, but as that was a totally different situation, there really was no reason for me to think this one would come that early.

Then, two nights ago (36 weeks and 3 days), I was awakened all night long with fairly painful contractions. I would open my eyes, acknowledge them, try to reposition, and fall back asleep.

I didn't get much rest.

Then in the morning, the contractions continued. I tried to go about my regular morning activities--get J ready for the babysitter, make breakfast, etc. but the regularity of the contractions became increasingly alarming. I downloaded an app to time them, and saw that some were 3-5 minutes apart, lasting almost a minute.

And that's when I lost my cool.

I cried to Mike, I lay motionless in bed, I worried and worried. I had 4 days until the 37 week mark--the point at which I could deliver with my midwife the way I had planned. The thought of another failed birth plan was too much for me, and my stress mounted with each cramp, which I knew was only making it worse. I asked Mike for a blessing, sent him off to work, put a show on for J and finally called my midwife.

May I remind you that although I have a child, I have never been in labor before. It's a weird thing. I thought, this could either be nothing, or this could be THE thing, and I had absolutely no idea which. I have friends who even on their third or fourth babies don't know labor when it's happening, so I felt totally helpless and well, stupid, when it came to what was happening to my body at that moment.

I explained to her what was happening through my tears of anxiety (I just need one more week! I kept telling my body), and she listened, calmed me, and told me that even if I did indeed have the baby that day, we could still proceed with the home birth.

And then my contractions stopped.

It was an enormous relief.

It was also an enormous wake up call.

I looked around my house and thought, Wow. We've got a lot of work to do. I've been operating on the premise that we have a few weeks before we need to really worry, but the little reminders I've had over the past few days (contractions, cramping, leg pains, general uncomfortableness) are telling me to get our stuff together. Nowish.

And then I start to do something on my list, and then my body tells me to take it easy. Two steps forward, one step back.

(Meanwhile, Mike is a work horse, morning to night.)

So I'm listening to my body, doing small things when I can, still hoping to make it at least until next week. Still grateful for the point I've already made it to in this pregnancy. So happy I'm now only 3 days from 37 weeks.

I did get a haircut today though, so there's that. If I make it to Monday, a pedicure.

(The freezer meals and clean fridge are on hold for now.)