MASON'S BIRTH STORY (PART 1)

It's been two and a half months since Baby M reluctantly entered the world, and the adrenaline and awe are fading, replaced by day to day life, routines, discoveries, and small miracles. It's time I put Little M's story in writing.

This pregnancy was different than the first. With Baby T, I didn't even feel pregnant until 36 weeks. With Little M, I felt my hips falling out of alignment at 8 weeks--before I even knew I was pregnant. It was still a great pregnancy. I was plenty tired and nauseated during the first trimester, don't get me wrong, but things really improved after that. I had a lot of energy. I didn't gain as much weight this time. I loved being pregnant.

I really do love carrying a baby in my belly. The big, tight belly is a nice change from the usual flabby lump. Feeling baby flutter and kick at my ribs, trying to grab the little pointy alien protrusions sticking out of my belly and guessing what part of him it is, anxiously awaiting the next movement... I love it. My hair gets thick, my skin feels great. Other than all the itchy stretch marks of course.

During the last month or so, I started to get a little nostalgic. I was so excited to meet Little M but I really liked having him inside of me. And I really didn't know what life would be like after he came out. I had NO IDEA. But that's a story for another time.

I also was so curious about how this birth would go down. I was going to work until the end, but with Baby T, I luckily got out of work early the day I went into labor. I was already home. This time, what if I went into labor at work? Would I know it was time? Or would I have pre-labor contractions for a few days first, making me go home for false alarms, only to come back the next day?

On Friday, January 14th, I was having some major braxton hicks. I was uncomfortable sitting in my chair at work. It felt better when I stood up, but sitting was majorly uncomfortable. I got annoyed that people say braxton hicks are painless. Mine weren't. People suggested that maybe they weren't just braxton hicks. But I blew them off. I had been having them a lot more during this pregnancy. I really didn't have them at all with my first. But I figured they were definitely not prodromal labor contractions. And I didn't feel any pressure or feel as though the baby had dropped. Which doesn't necessarily mean anything, but I was sure that nothing was going to happen until after my due date.

I didn't expect him to come until after my due date, so on January 17th, I wasn't even thinking about his birth. I was sitting on the couch, watching whatever I watch on Monday nights, and around 10 PM, I got up to get water and go to bed. And felt three short gushes. I couldn't hold them in. I ran to the bathroom without saying a word to Big T.

I knew I didn't wet my pants. It's pretty obvious when you piss yourself. I didn't piss myself. But I was pretty sure it wasn't me going into labor, either. I mean, my water didn't break on its own at all with Baby T. I just didn't expect it to break this time, either. I was never good at statistics and probability in math class. Apparently.

So I came out, told Big T, "I think my water might have just broken?" Yes, that's right. I asked him. As if he would know. I said, "I'm not sure what to do?" Which was a lie. I mean, I know about this stuff. I'm educated in birth. I knew exactly what to do. But I couldn't really belive it was amniotic fluid.

So I called Pamela, my midwife. I don't think she believed it either. She said what I knew: if it was amniotic fluid, I would probably start having contractions. She told me to go to bed, get some rest, don't get too overexcited or stay up all night, and call her in the morning. If not sooner. Whoa. I was kind of freaking out inside. But I pretended like it was all cool. Got in bed. I usually pass out as soon as my head hits the pillow. But I couldn't stop the adrenaline.

My baby was coming! Probably tonight. Ok, relax, relax. Was that a contraction? Nope, nothing at all. Not even a twinge.

And the fear. Could I really do this again? Baby T's birth was a breeze. Or was I completely forgetting the pain? What if this birth was a million times more painful? Could I handle it? Could I stay up all night again? That was the worst part of Baby T's birth--feeling so tired from staying awake all night, feeling too tired to move and stand and push. The pain wasn't the worst part. But what if the pain was the worst part of this birth?

Eventually I went to sleep. I don't even think I woke up to pee. I certainly didn't wake up to any contractions. There were none.

(...to be continued...)