It’s funny to re-read my last post, knowing what I know now. There I was, all worried about not having anything distracting to do Friday night…ha. I can’t stop thinking about all the little things about that day I want to remember, so even though I should maybe be sleeping right now, I’m going to write it all down, just in time for Everett’s due date.
Friday morning started out very normal. Julian and I said goodbye to daddy, got some breakfast-pancakes for him, yogurt for me, and walked to the park. We have a park really close to our house that Julian loves, but for some reason it isn’t very popular. Which makes me feel nervous about it when, like this morning, the only other people at the park are clearly living there. Tangent…sorry, getting back on topic now.
During the walk to the park, I had maybe two contractions that felt more crampy than Braxton-Hicks, and then one while Julian was going down the slide that took my breath away and made me sit down. But I had been having crampy contractions regularly every night for the past week and the midwife told me that they most likely didn’t mean anything. So I did my best to ignore it. After all, I still had ten days to go.
I babysat a few of Julian’s favorite friends for a couple hours after the park. While they ran around the house and the yard entertaining each other beautifully, I had a few more contractions, although none as intense as the one I’d had at the playground, and they were still very irregular. It’s funny how when I’m waiting for labor to start, I want those contractions to get intense so badly, and then later on, it’s like…be careful what you wish for.
Ted got home and we decided we would go downtown and ride the gondola over the Spokane Falls that evening-something we had wanted to do since we moved to Spokane. I ran out and bought a bunch of pears for a pear cake I was planning on making for my book club the next day while Julian napped. Those poor pears are still sitting on my counter, never making it to their intended destiny.
While Julian napped, I took a long shower to see if that would maybe make any false labor type contractions go away and found myself talking to my belly. I told the baby we were so excited to meet them and I was ready anytime they were. The shower did nothing to slow down contractions so I started thinking that maybe I should try to take a nap instead of doing anything ambitious with our evening.
But after some inner debate, we decided to head down to Riverfront Park after all. It was a beautiful perfect night and I’m so grateful for the memory of being there with my sweet little family of three. We joked about the possibility of the baby being born in the gondola ride, but luckily we got to enjoy the view of the falls with no such drama. Things were definitely getting more and more intense though, and I probably had three or four contractions during our 20 minute ride. While walking around the park afterwards, a woman walking past yelled “walk that baby out, mama!” So I guess my discomfort was a little obvious.
We got home and I finally started letting myself think about this being the real deal for the first time. Ted showed me an article he saw about how the hospital was full of babies being born and suggested I might want to wait until the next day. Ha-good one, Ted. We gave Julian a bath and put him to bed, but got him up about 20 minutes later when we decided better safe than sorry and Ted dropped him at a friend’s house for the night.
While he was gone, I called the midwife to let her know what was going on and she basically told me to go with my gut. Unfortunately, my gut was still second guessing itself. When Ted got home, I was using the exercise ball on hands and knees and moaning to help me get through contractions. Also I was eating ice cream out of the gallon container and watching Grey’s Anatomy which made us laugh a lot afterwards at how stereotypical it was.
To be continued…