So, two years ago I was sitting on the couch going into labor. I had spent the day excited because I thought I was already in labor, but it turns out, I wasn’t. We had even called our midwife and traveled to the birth center earlier on the 29th, but she knew as soon as she saw me, I was not in real labor yet. I was aware of my surroundings and smiling and talking. A few hours later on our return trip I was far FAR from aware of my surroundings and I was unable to talk or stand, really.
But two years ago this moment, I think I was trying to sleep. I knew I was in labor, and our birthing instructor had said if you went into labor you should try to get some sleep. She didn’t mention it would be the last I would have for two years +, but maybe she didn’t want to scare us.
I’m fuzzy on the timeline, so maybe instead, exactly two years ago I was screaming at Brett. I was so pissed because I had this great little clock to time my contractions. It was really helping me with the pain, to be able to zone out on the second hand. Brett accidentally knocked the clock off of the bed and the second hand broke. I was furious! It was also funny because it was the one thing helping me, and of course he broke it, but I was pissed too.
Of course, I might’ve been in the shower already by this point, I can’t recall. I just remember that like the time I tried to bleach my hair at home, having running water on my body eased the burning pain I was feeling. Of course, one was my scalp burning off and the other was my cervix opening, but again water saved the day. When I bleached my hair I just ran water over my hands as a distraction and soothing sound, but this time I needed it in a larger dose. With each contraction the pain became more intense and I found myself getting lost in the sensation of pain. During our relaxation exercises in birthing class I would think about the pain like a wave on the ocean. I imagined that it would lift me up and I would ride with it. I imagined that I would feel the swell and I would know somewhere that it would eventually ebb. My clock helped me to remember this too, as the seconds ticked I knew there would be an end to the pain eventually. In the shower though, I kept getting lost in the pain. The water helped, but eventually I felt like the pain waves were crashing over me and I was getting lost. To go through the pain I had to be able to keep a hold of my consciousness, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Brett was just standing there and I was yelling at him to talk to me, to keep me sane and in my body. Anyone who knows Brett knows that he isn’t always the most talkative fellow. I think he was kind of freaking out and had a hard time when I would scream at him to “SAY SOMETHING! ANYTHING!” I think I hit him a few times around this time, though like I said, it’s kind of fuzzy. I remember I really really hit him in the arm, like not pretend or open fist either, but I can’t remember why now.
We finally decided to leave for the birth center. Brett called our midwife and she said that she could meet us in like, twenty minutes or something. But I was not staying in our house for another second. I made Brett drive us to the birthing center immediately. I have no memory of the drive, except for that feeling you get on really momentous occasions. Like when someone close to you passes away, or something crazy big life altering happens to you, and you just look at all the people doing their everyday things, driving to work, drinking coffee, talking on the phone, and you think “What are they doing!?! don’t they know that something huge is happening? That the world will never be the same? How can they pick their nose at a time like this?” But then you realize that this happens everyday to someone who sees you picking your ass by the side of the road. Not that I pick my ass by the side of the road daily, or ever really.
I think when we got out of the car and I was pacing around waiting for our midwife to arrive, I think that was when I started seeing this weird image in my minds eye. It was this cityscape. It was all white and kind of shiny and sparkly. There were all these little lights in the windows of all the skyscrapers, and they were all lovely colored. It was like I was flying around and through the cityscape. It was super calming and nice, but not really where I expected my mind to go.
A lot is fuzzy after that. Probably from two years worth of sleep deprivation and probably from you know, having Sadie and all.