First, some mathematical background… I always kind of had two due dates (like a boss). My doctors in DC had me at January 10 per the first frog-trasound; the authorities in PA follow the standard cycle math and reassigned me to January 6.
With that in mind I will mention one odd tidbit that may or may not have anything to do with the onset of the odyssey. On the night of due date #1, baby went INSANE with movement for probably 3+ straight hours. Or whatever the duration of a few football quarters and the Biggest Loser premiere is. Like, bounced off the wall with hardly any breaks. Kid wanted OUT.
He’d always been a busy little guy but never acted like that before, so I asked Google (of course) and anecdotal evidence seemed split between women who said their baby did this right before they went into labor, and women who said the exact opposite, that their babies were uncharacteristically quiet before labor started. NO HELP. As always. Oh, except there was one person who said her friend experienced the same phenomenon of frantic baby movement, and he tangled himself in the cord and was gone by the time she made it to the doctor.
So that sent me into a tizzy, and for the first time in the whole dang pregnancy, I called the 24 hour line at my doctor’s office to double check. The nurse said not anything to worry about, go to bed. I did. I woke up at 4:15 a.m. for what was probably piddle break 3 or 4 of the night, where I was met with a gory early labor indicator which shall remain un-named. Because there are men who read this blog and I’m a humane person. Chicks hopefully have some idea what I’m talking about.
From there, I was up for an hour or so with contractions (dun dun dun!) that quickly went away (womp womp). I was woken up later in the morning by an oddly strong one, and told Jeff that baby stuff was possibly happening. I spent the rest of the day with the same frustrating pattern of contractions that started, stopped, started, strengthened, weakened, stopped, started, etc. We had told a few family members that things might be starting, so I felt like a pretty big idiot when I hadn’t really gotten anywhere by the end of the day. I went to bed dreaming of a little January 8 baby.
To be continued (insert dramatic fade to black).