**Warning: This post may contain content not suitable for the faint of heart…or stomach. Proceed at your own risk. Good Luck.**
How do you put into words the amazing experience of bringing a child into this world? It all just baffles me really. I mean almost 5 months ago I didn’t even know I was pregnant. Craziness. And yet I am blessed with a beautiful baby girl.
But enough with the mushy stuff, let’s get down to the details. Every pregnant woman reaches the point of no return at the end of her pregnancy. You know, that moment when you have grown tired of the lack of sleep (ha!), waddling, and peeing yourself every time you laugh, sneeze, or even stand. Yes, there is a distinct moment when your pregnancy feels like an eternity and you’re just done. This time for me, I was stuck somewhere in the middle of wanting her out and okay if she stayed in until college. My pregnancy didn’t seem like forever, really it just flew by WAY. TOO. FAST. I was only starting to get uncomfortable, because oddly enough I was tiny for this being my fifth child, but there was a feeling of, “okay…I guess it’s time to have a baby. That’s what’s supposed to happen next, right?!” The end was near, and the week of my due date proved to be extremely busy with our church’s VBS. I was the director over crafts and like many other people, very surprised to still be with child and able to help. But as long as she was locked up tight, I was bound and determined to stay busy, trying to forget about the expiration date looming over my head. Every day I made it back to VBS people were amazed. “You’re still here?!” Why yes, I was a walking phenomenon. Nothing short of a miracle, ha! Though my favorite saying which usually followed the first response was, “Just keep her in until after VBS on Friday!” Um, word to the wise, you never wish a woman pregnant for 9 months to stay pregnant any longer than she has to. You may think it, especially if her going into labor early may cause scheduling issues, but to her face you cheer that baby right on out! We are hormonal and you do not want to suffer our wrath.
As day four of VBS wrapped up, also known as my due date, I headed to my weekly midwife appointment cautiously optimistic. I feared that there was no more progress made, like the week before, and I would head into the last day of VBS only 2cm dilated, 50% effaced, and still packing a baby. Much to my surprise, my midwife informed me that I was now 4cm dilated and 70% effaced to which she then asked if I wanted my membranes striped. Of course I jumped on that idea and we planned for me to meet back up at the office first thing in the morning if I hadn’t gone into labor to have them striped again. Then I’d head off to VBS to walk that baby out.
I left the office with my head held high and my uterus hanging low. Then panic set in, we weren’t ready for our baby to come yet. The house was a mess, bags needed to be packed completely, and I had blogging commitments due the next day. Yikes. Nothing like waiting until the last minute, yes procrastination at it’s finest. So in between random contractions, we hustled like a street vendor to get everything finished. Then we headed to my parents’ house for the night per my mom’s suggestion. That way in case I went into labor during the night the kids could stay and sleep there with my dad. All was set, and we just waited. Of course I went on a walk in efforts to work some magic, but it was pretty clear things were only happening because I was walking… and I was on tired mama. Claiming defeat and with the reassurance of another appointment in the morning I headed to bed around 12.
Wising for a restful sleep, because let’s face it, VBS was kicking my tail, I realized how nothing about this baby’s arrival or delivery was going how I planned. Of course this baby was going to come on her own terms and set her own rules. Shoot, she had done that all along. What were we going to be in for with this child? I had no clue.
But after only 2 hours of sleep I was awakened with a nasty familiar pain. One that rivaled a fully loaded jalapeno, chilly dog, which danced a gassy number in your intestines. No this was it. It had to be the real thing. Were we about to meet baby Pippa?
*Stay tuned for part 2 tomorrow*