Sunday came and I decided to forego going to church-because after all it was my due date. And I thought I was starting to feel the slightest cramping sensation. I waited out the day as they got a little stronger. I wasn’t actually even sure if they were the real thing that’s how small they were. I had to ask my friend what they felt like and she assured me it sounded like I was at least moving in the right direction. Monday came and the cramping was getting a little stronger and more consistent. I went on a long walk that day. I was longing for a body sans baby bump so I went to every clothing store within walking distance and dreamt of the day that I would get to wear cute non-maternity clothes again. Soon, I hoped. That evening Mike and I weren’t in the greatest of moods. We were getting stir crazy from all the waiting we’d done in the past week. We just stared at each other through dinner. It was like we didn’t have anything to say until the baby came.
I woke up Tuesday and I told Mike I thought today was the day—the day we’d meet our baby. He told his boss the same thing when he called to say he wasn’t going into work that day. I was definitely feeling the cramps by this point and they were coming about every 30 minutes. We were so excited. We had planned what we were going to do on delivery day in our birthing class but we didn’t really do any of it—except get our favorite cupcakes from St. Cupcake. To be honest I can’t really remember what we did that morning—I think we cleaned the house. Things didn’t seem to be progressing much though. I just felt like I was on my period, nothing very painful. I decided I would let Mike know I was feeling contractions by saying “Oh, that tickles” so he could at least pay attention to how far apart they were. We got dinner with Mike’s sister, Christina, and then headed to St. Cupcake and then home.
I was still wondering if I was actually ever going to have a baby. It seemed too easy to me. I even made the mistake of saying that a few times throughout the day. By the time Glee rolled around I was really starting to feel the contractions. And by the last musical number I was trying to do anything to get comfortable and make them stop. Mostly I was lying on my side, clenching a pillow watching our enormous wall clock. 15 minutes apart. It was 10 o’clock by then. I figured it would take all night to get to that infamous 5-1-1 everyone tells you about so I told Mike I’d try to sleep through them. The second my head hit the pillow I was wincing in pain. I told Mike to look at the clock. The pain stopped. And then it rolled through me again. And again. 5 minutes apart.
I couldn’t lie down any longer. I had to stand up to feel more in control of my body. I rocked back and forth and held onto the dresser, the stair rail, the bathroom sink—whatever I could to stable myself through the next contractions. Mike said I should call the Doctor. I called and tried not to sound too panicky. She asked if my water broke. I told her I didn’t think so. She said I should probably head to the hospital anyway. I dressed as fast as I possibly could and then proceeded to put on my makeup. Makeup—seriously, at a time like this? I braced myself again.
Mike was hurriedly trying to gather everything so we could get to the car. I’ve never seen him so frantic. Ever. He was picking things up, then setting them down, then moving them from one place to another. We walked to the car and as we got in I held onto the door handle to brace myself again. It was midnight. There was construction on the street heading to the hospital so Mike decided to make an illegal left turn onto the street directly behind it. And that’s when I spotted the cop car (without its lights on) driving down the other side of the street.
