There I was, 4pm, Friday afternoon,
Contracting, non-stop,
As I had been for days,
In pain,
With no end in sight,
Exhausted in both body and soul,
And, suddenly,
Water.

I won’t give too much information here, but I’ll just say that this was something very new.
Just to clarify,
There was no big gush of water.
Not the “buckets” my doctor had described when warning me of this possibility.
Nothing like what they show in the movies.
But, I knew it was something.

I called the good-ole-OB-emergency-after-hours-line and spoke to the Nurse.
“Your water broke. Come on in. And hurry.”
Finally, this was it. I almost couldn’t believe it was actually happening.
I knew that women had their waters break in only about 10% of pregnancies, so I doubted that I would ever find myself in that elite group.
But, sure enough,
Water, water everywhere.
Well, not quite.
But, off to the hospital I went.

Once again we drove to my parents’ house,
Once again we dropped off my dogs,
Once again I reminded my dad to give them “TONS” of extra love and kisses,
Once again I walked
(yes, I could still walk, but this time I had a broken water…
Or two…)
Into the hospital, up to Labor and Delivery and planted myself on the hospital bed.
I was in for the long haul.

Once again, a resident came in to do my examination.
And, once again, she looked at me, sheepishly, and told me that I would not like what she had to say.

1 centimeter dilated and 50% effaced.

“Um, no. Not possible. I’m sorry, but you must be mistaken. Or crazy. You’re crazy! I must have progressed since yesterday. I have been contracting every 3 minutes for 48 hours. MY WATER BROKE!”

I can’t say that this was exact quote, but I know I that said all of those things, and maybe more. And there were tears. Maybe even some throwing of some things. Maybe.

I think the young Doctor shrugged. Or she apologized. Or maybe she ran out, crying. Maybe.

And so, once again, they had me wait.
They ran tests.
At one point, my blood pressure went up (um, duh. I was NOT a happy girl)
I asked the resident, “I know it’s high, but am I OK?”
She just looked at me and shook her head, slowly, from side to side.
Seriously?
Oh, this was just perfect.

I waited more, they tested more, and finally, the resident came back in to tell me that no,
My water had not, in fact, broken.
To say that I was crushed would be a dreadful understatement.
There had been water. And although not in copious amounts, there was enough.
She couldn’t explain it. She just said that my water had not broken and that I had not dilated or effaced any more.
She. Sent. Me. Home.

By that point, I stormed and stomped (read: still waddling) out of the hospital, determined that my baby would just live in me forever,
Growing up in my womb,
Graduating from high school, and then college, from inside my bulging belly.
It would never end.

I went to bed feeling hopeless.
I woke up the next day feeling desperate.
And, also a little concerned.
My baby was being a little quiet.
It’s not that I wasn’t feeling her move, I was.
Just not as much,
And not the same way.
But, there’s an old wives tale out there that claims that a baby slows down and grows quiet the day before a woman goes into labor.
I kept this in the back of my mind, but couldn’t quiet the butterflies that were flying around the quieter baby in my belly.

I spent the day walking around,
Went for a pedicure,
And happened to be seated next to a nice, young doctor who worked at the hospital where I would be delivering.
Now, she was a General Practitioner, and not an OB, but that didn’t stop me from asking her if it was normal that my baby was being a little quiet (and, for the record, I know that I keep using the word “quiet” to describe how it felt, but I don’t know any other word that describes what I was feeling).
The GP told me that I should be feeling the baby moving throughout the day, and that if I still hadn’t felt much in a few hours, that I should be sure to call the OB.

Something just didn’t feel right.
Now, you know that thing about a mother’s intuition?
Well, this was it.

It was noon and I decided to take another walk, this time around an outdoor shopping area. I could barely move by this point, but I was determined to stay on my feet and let gravity work its magic.

As we strolled, I couldn’t push away the anxiety rising inside of me. I was feeling her move, but it was just different.

As I walked and thought, I felt my phone buzz, from inside my purse.
It was my mom, and I picked up the phone, bracing myself to start complaining,
When she cut me off.
“Bex,” she started. “There’s been a little accident.”

Stay tuned….