I've become a complete and total hippie... Sure, we've been eating organic food and wearing aluminum free deodorant for a while now, but what really seals the deal is having a baby in my living room. Yes, I am featuring my own "birth story" right here on my blog. Why? Because that's what one does when they have a home birth - it's crunchy protocol. This story, however, will be a far cry from the fluffy, happy, gushy mushy stories about vag miracles and woman power...
Big Daddy and I had been trying to trigger labor ever since we hit 39 weeks on his birthday (September 1st). We thought we had things going on 9/2, but it turned out to be a false alarm. Being pregnant and miserable, I just wanted the baby OUT and kept thinking he was going to go way past due if I didn't do something to get him going. Ah, ignorant bliss... If I had known what labor had in store for me, I may have elected to stay pregnant forever.
On 9/7, we decided to try to get things going again. After an awkward bout of late pregnancy sexy time, nothing seemed to be picking up, so BD headed off to work - albeit, quite late. I decided to spend the morning continuing trying to get the baby to find the warm confines of my womb to be not quite so pleasant. This involved bouncing on a large ball that I wasn't entirely sure would hold my weight. All that bouncing made my normally very sedentary body pretty tired, so I gave up and took a nap because I was actually having LESS uterine action than I had been the past few weeks. BD came home at 2:00 and we decided to do some shopping... If the stress of a Target packed with morons who apparently have no respect for those of us growing people inside of us wouldn't be enough to put me in labor, nothing would be.
We went to Panera for lunch first and, strangely, the woman who rang us up said something about me going into labor there. I assured her that no such thing would be taking place as I was obviously going to be pregnant forever... I did have a few contractions at Panera, but they were nothing more than the usual, slightly more painful Braxton-Hicks contractions that led to absolutely nothing. We got to Target, and did our thing. We were actually having a lot of fun, so much that I paid no attention to the fact that I was having to stop and lean on something during my "Braxton-Hicks contractions". I had more important things to worry about, like the Pumpkin Spice latte I was about to enjoy from the in-store Starbucks.
We managed to get home right before Thing 2's bus arrived. Unfortunately, Thing 1 had been waiting for a half hour and apparently "really, really had to take a dump!!" - next time he will learn to take his key. We took the stuff in and I decided to take a bath not long after because the contractions were getting more painful. Somehow, at the time, I didn't associate the pain with possibly being in labor - maybe because it didn't seem to be coming regularly. I honestly thought I was just having gas pain or something - you know, because of course abdominal pain that comes and goes and is quite intense when you just happen to be almost 40 weeks pregnant is obviously just gas.
So I take what's left of my delicious pumpkin spice latte and get in the bath. I'm not entirely sure at this point how I even managed to fit in the tub, but I did. Not long after getting in, I recall yelling out during a bout of "gas pain". For some reason, it finally hit me that this was more than the fermenting remains of my lunch forming methane in my intestines... There was no 1950's TV show "Oh My God The Baby Is Coming!!" moment, but I called BD up and told him what was going on. We never timed a single contraction, because they were still sporadic... This is a good time for a tangent: The weekend before, I was having contractions that were a minute long and 2-3 minutes apart for several hours. So much that we DID call the midwife. Turned out to be a false alarm and going to sleep made it stop.
So after he came up, I was still really wishy-washy as to what was going on. He, of course, was getting nervous. Finally, I couldn't take the pain any more and had to get out of the tub. Any pain that's bad enough to make me abandon a hot bath is definitely serious. I told BD to call the midwife...
Stay tuned for Episode 2: Rub a Dub, Born In a Tub.