Is This It?

It's 3:45 am on Sunday night.  I'm up again, timing contractions.  This is the fourth or fifth time I've done this in the last few weeks.  It's really wearisome.  Wake up with a good, strong contraction and immediately my hopes soar.  Is this it?  Are we really going to do something this time?  Wait for the next one.  No, too far apart, too weak, too sporadic.  But, wait, are you sure?  That last one was pretty strong.  Better break out the timing app on the phone.  It's more objective.  Half an hour later....

Let's see if I can make them go away.  Haul my sore self out of bed, pause to let the muscles loosen up, begin laps around the living room and kitchen.  Big glass of water, maybe a snack.  Yeah, they're going away.  Better get some sleep.  Oh, great, they come back when I lay down.  You know this isn't the real thing, just go to sleep.  It's labor, Sarah!  You're not going to sleep through it and it's not going to go away. Get some rest so you won't be a bear tomorrow.  When, when is it going to be real?

Each time it's just enough different to get my hopes up and wreak havoc with my emotions.  Maybe I spent the day running errands, doing a lot of walking, so I think surely this is it.  Or this time the contractions start in my back, so surely that means something.  Tonight it started with a splitting headache. I sometimes get raging headaches on just one side of my head that are usually related to hormones.  So, naturally I assume something different is going on; surely this is it.  And, yes, the contractions feel different--coming on more in waves than all at once.

Even though this is baby #3, I've never had the experience of going into labor on my own.  The first two were induced.  Be at the hospital at 5am, have a baby by supper.  No need to really pay attention to what your body may be trying to tell you.  No need to strike the right timing of waiting long enough to be sure this is really it, but not so long that you miss the golden window of opportunity for pain relief.

There's something else a little different this time, too.  It's the first time I've begged God to let it be real with every contraction.  But the longer I sit here, the more the numbers look very familiar and the more subtle the symptoms become.  I can't completely give up hope that this is it, but the longer I stay awake and the higher I let myself get on possibility, the more disappointed and depressed I will be tomorrow.

One of these days, I really will have a baby.  I won't be pregnant forever.  In fact, there is good reason to believe I won't be pregnant for more than 10-12 more days.  It's just ten days, right?  I can do anything for ten days.  Right?  Get some sleep, Sarah.  I promise to post if we go to the hospital; please don't lose sleep waiting.