On this day, 4 years ago

Sunday, January 7, 2007

I was pregnant and feeling great. I mean great. I was absolutely loving being pregnant. In the month prior, I had ridden for hours a bus to New York City and walked around said city for days with high school students as a chaperone on a school trip. I think I even wore heels. And I loved the whole experience. And the baby loved it, too - especially the Lion King on Broadway. (My only downfall was the constant need to pee, so the Charmin building in Times Square was a godsend.) In the week prior, I had attended aerobics classes - step aerobics, to be specific. I think it put the baby to sleep. After dealing for months with the most painful thing I have ever experienced - cautrochondritis (that couldn't be treated because pregnant women cannot take ibuprophen safely, and the tylenol with codine that I was prescribed as an alternative caused me to be violently ill) - I was so happy to be out of pain and back to my cardio and prenatal yoga routine.

On this day, like many prior, John and I took a leisurely pre-kid trip to the store. We decided to stop at Burger King, and it was in the Burger King parking lot after lunch that I distinctly remember feeling what I later decided was a contraction. At the time, I truly had no idea. It didn't hurt. It just felt...weird. There was definitely a tightening of my abdomen for a period of time, but I couldn't identify what it was, having not even experienced a single Braxton Hicks contraction in this pregnancy. I mentioned the sensation to John. And then when it happened again, I mentioned it again. There was no way this was a contraction. There was no way. Because it didn't hurt. And because I was NOT ready to have a baby. My baby boy wasn't due until January 26. And I was hoping (yes, hoping) that my baby would come late. Maybe February?

The day progressed and at some point we decided to start recording some data on these contractions. They weren't getting any more painful, but there was no ignoring the by-the-book pattern that unfolded as we wrote down the numbers.

The contractions continued. Things stayed the same. Was I in labor? How was I to really know? As bedtime approached, a decision had to be made. If I wasn't going to the hospital, I needed to go to bed. Because I had to go to work in the morning. (As a side note, I had sat in on interviews for my substitute on Friday, only two days prior...things were a little less than ready at school.)

I called my doctor, who advised me to go to the hospital to get checked. I called my mom and let her know what was going on; John called his. And then we headed out, bag packed.

I couldn't believe how nervous I was. To think that we might be coming home with a baby! I was pretty much a wreck, actually. I was really not ready.