Still Waiting
I’m still waiting. I had two hours’ worth of fairly regular contractions last Friday night, and I was sure I was going to be heading for the hospital in the middle of the night. I even had my folks convinced. We were all making last-minute plans, charging cell phones, setting out changes of clothes for the girls, Eric tutoring my dad on how to set up the sound system for recording the message Sunday morning. And there I was, finishing up one last transcript for my task-master court-reporting mother. An expedite. What is an expedite, you ask? It’s a transcript that has a one- or two-day turnaround period, versus a one-week turnaround. Yes, as I was pounding frantically away at the keyboard, adding dashes, commas, and semicolons and looking up the spelling of obscure words like “myofascial,” I was freezing every so often to breathe through a contraction and then record the time on a Word document on my desktop. Just so you can see what I’m talking about, here’s how evenly they were coming.
5:20
5:25
5:31
5:36
5:42
5:48
5:54
6:02
6:05
6:10
6:13
6:16
6:26
6:29
6:34
Contractions are funny things. They take such a grip on your torso that you actually have to arch your back backwards so that your lungs have enough room to expand, at least that’s how they affect me. Most of the contractions weren’t painful, very much like Braxton-Hicks. But this was exactly how my labor with Esther started – regular, nonpainful contractions that increased in interval and intensity throughout the night. Abby’s labor was like the breaking of a dam, literally. My water broke, and then very heavy contractions immediately ensued. I was sure I was having a repeat of Essie’s labor, but I was wrong because…I’m still waiting.
Waiting for labor to start is much like waiting for the plane to land. I’ve been away on a very prolonged nine-month flight, where it feels like the flight is never going to end. Now, in the last nine days before my due date, I can see the runway just below me when I look out the window, but there’s a breath-holding hush just before we hit the actual ground. It’s the hitting of the ground that I have yet to feel. I’m still waiting for it, and the anticipation is so close I can taste its aftershave.
5:20
5:25
5:31
5:36
5:42
5:48
5:54
6:02
6:05
6:10
6:13
6:16
6:26
6:29
6:34
Contractions are funny things. They take such a grip on your torso that you actually have to arch your back backwards so that your lungs have enough room to expand, at least that’s how they affect me. Most of the contractions weren’t painful, very much like Braxton-Hicks. But this was exactly how my labor with Esther started – regular, nonpainful contractions that increased in interval and intensity throughout the night. Abby’s labor was like the breaking of a dam, literally. My water broke, and then very heavy contractions immediately ensued. I was sure I was having a repeat of Essie’s labor, but I was wrong because…I’m still waiting.
Waiting for labor to start is much like waiting for the plane to land. I’ve been away on a very prolonged nine-month flight, where it feels like the flight is never going to end. Now, in the last nine days before my due date, I can see the runway just below me when I look out the window, but there’s a breath-holding hush just before we hit the actual ground. It’s the hitting of the ground that I have yet to feel. I’m still waiting for it, and the anticipation is so close I can taste its aftershave.
Comments
Caleb -- we're anxiously waiting to meet you. What are you going to be like, little boy?? I can't wait. I love you already.