The Barefoot Files: Part 1 Labor and Birth!

Ok, first things first:

When you have a baby, your body does not immediately go back to it's original non-pregnant state.

Do not be alarmed!

Do not be sad when you still look five months pregnant even though baby is now out of your body and currently attached to your boob!

I mean, I knew this was not the case. I read books, I have friends who've had babies, I know things. And yet, I really wanted to look down when I got up from that delivery table and see my old body. Instead I saw what I can only describe as a mashed up birthday cake.

Anyway. . .

Me and the little lady enjoying the garage.

The Labor and Birth! Part 1!

So, Sunday August 14th I was 38 weeks. Sundays we usually try to go for a slow hike, or out to breakfast, or vacuum. You know, something fun. But instead of sleeping in and taking it slow, I woke up at 6:30 in the morning with a very uncomfortable feeling in my lower abdomen. And then again. And again. Until I realized these uncomfortable feelings were coming about every ten minutes.

"Uh honey?"

"Mnh."

"Honey loves?"

"Mnnnnh."

"Wake up."

"What time is it?"

"Almost seven."

"Mnnn."

"I think I'm having contractions."

"What?"

"I think I'm having contractions. Maybe."

*DING*

Suddenly we're both wide awake, staring at each other, curled up knee to knee.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Then we stayed there for a while. Staring and counting minutes. Still about ten minutes, and they were contractions for sure, but they didn't hurt very bad. I mean, they were like really bad period cramps for thirty seconds and then they went away. And I've seen movies, I know that things do not go this smoothly or pain-free, so we got up and got on with our day.

We walked the dog. We did some stuff around the house. I suggested we put the car seat in the car, just in case. Just in case. I didn't actually think we'd need it, but - eh, better safe than sorry. We went out to lunch, and did some shopping, and some more dog walking, I did some work, and through all of this I would stop every ten to fifteen minutes, put my head down and breathe through a contraction. That's it, just breathe. Ain't no thang. I actually remember thinking, "This is labor? Except they come closer together. Psh. I can handle this shit."

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaah!

That's the sound of post-labor me, laughing at pre-real-labor me. Except in real life the laughing goes on and on and involves pointing, and sticking notes on my back that say, "DUMB".

So, after about 12 hours I called Labor and Delivery, and the Doctor told me what I thought she would - don't come in, we'll just send you home. Fine by me. When I asked what I should do if this was still going on the next day she said, "It won't. It'll either get worse or it will go away." Which again, was fine by me.

So, I went to bed and fell asleep thinking tomorrow everything would be gone and I'd just be normal ol' pregnant. But about a half hour after I fell asleep, my boyfriend got into bed and suddenly those teeny tiny contractions had turned into HUGE contractions, and they were about five minutes apart. And they weren't something I could breathe through, they were something I groaned through. And yet, the boyfriend did not believe it. Who would though after a whole day of contractions that were harmless? So I gripped his arms and squeezed my way through a few more before he kinda started to take me seriously.

"Maybe I should make you a bath?"

"A bath?" (Are you f*&%ing kidding me?)

"Yeah, a bath might help. We need to delay as long as possible." (This we had agreed on. Neither one of us wanted to be in the hospital longer than we had to.)

"A bath?" (Do I look like I want to get in the bath right now?!)

"I'll just run it, you don't have to get in."

"You should pack a bag." (You get in the bath. I'm going to have a baby.)

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please pack a bag." (Pack a mother f-ing bag!)

"Ok."

(PACK A BAG!)

So, somehow (delirious from pain) he talked me into the bath. Where I stayed for about three contractions, yelling at him to get in here every time I had a contraction because I just could not go through it alone. Somehow, being able to push my head into his chest, shut my eyes, and groan through the wave of a contraction was waaaaay better than trying to do it by myself. With him there I could handle it. With him in the other room I was lost, unfocused. So, he'd go start to pack his bag until I'd scream at him to get back, he'd rush in and let me bury my face into his arm, then I'd yell at him to finish packing his bag, then yell to get back, and so on until I finally heaved myself out of the tub and talked him into getting the car started and this show on the road.

And still, he did not believe me. He thought we'd get there and they'd send us home. Me and my lower half? We knew better.

More tomorrow!!! For now here's a few pictures!