a birth story - part three

To read part one and part two of my story, click on the links.

Expecting to go way past my due date and still be pregnant

I was a little bit surprised when my waters broke three days early. . .

I cracked the door open

and in, what I though was, 

my calmest, quietest, don't-panic-because-it's probably nothing voice,

I whispered "Honey?"

He sat straight up in bed instantly,

wide awake

and asked what was going on

because I never, ever, ever went to the toilet this much.

So I used the same calm and sensible voice

to tell him that I thought my waters had possibly broken

and could he go and get the maternity pads out of the hospital bag

so that I would at least be able to leave the bathroom.

Bless him,

the poor guy looked half way between terror and excitement.

I don't think I've ever seen him move so fast.

He kicked into action;

rushing for the pads

and bringing them back in lightening speed.

Next I was hit with a barrage of questions;

was I in pain,

did I need anything,

what should we do now,

was the baby coming,

what should he do?

All I could answer was that no, I wasn't in pain

but that I had no idea about any of his other questions.

I guessed ringing the maternity hospital seemed like a good idea.

He got me the phone and as he passed it to me

he pulled this excited smiley face

and said, "We're gonna be a mummy and daddy."

It looked like it had only just dawned on him that very moment.

I was starting to feel some uncomfortable crampy feelings,

which I guessed must be contractions.

They were uncomfortable but bearable

and not lasting very long.

I rang the hospital

and they suggested I get showered,

have some breakfast

and then come in about 8.30am

so they could check whether it was my waters or not

and see what was happening.

So that's what I did.

Being in the shower was lovely,

mainly because it was the only place

I didn't feel like I was wetting myself every few minutes.

I used the same special shower gel

that I'd used the morning of our wedding.

I'm not sure why,

but it seemed like an important enough occasion

on which to use my most expensive body wash.

I took the time to blow dry and straighten my hair.

Somewhere in my crazy, hormonal brain

I figured that it would look neater for longer if I went to all that trouble.

And besides if I was having my baby today

I wanted to have neat(ish) hair for all the photographs we would be taking.

The whole time I was getting ready

my contractions were becoming a little more uncomfortable,

just enough that they would take my breath away for a second.

Around this time it crossed my mind that timing them wouldn't be a bad idea,

just to see.

So the trusty iPod app for contraction timing came into action

and I distracted myself with recording them and putting on my face

while my husband sorted himself out.

He made me look like the image of calm

as he bombed around like a thing possessed,

trying to get everything ready.

Anyone would have though that he was the one in the early stages of labour.

He hadn't packed any supplies for himself like I'd asked him to

plus I was not leaving the house with the bed unmade

but I was a little too uncomfortable to make it by myself.

And as he started taking things out to the car

I suggested he put a bin bag on the passenger seat,

just in case my pads didn't stand up to the test of the speed bumps that we had to go over on the way.

As I shut the bedroom door,

I looked at the crib assembled by our bed,

ready and waiting for use.

And I thought to myself,

"Maybe next time I come in this room

this baby will be out of my tummy

and going into that crib."


Read the next part here.