We have a joke in my family, I suck at pregnancy but make great babies. I am three for three on sucking at pregnancies and hereby (totally unbiased of course) declare that I am three for three on awesome babies.
All through my pregnancy there was debate whether I was one week ahead of where the u/s said I was (and being desperate to be almost done I was on board for that extra week even if my OB was not. My girlfriend who worked in an OB office said this is normal when you have 2 or more doctors, they all – good naturedly- want to be right and sometimes make bets. I am totally not offended by that.)
Anyway we went on vacation to Rehoboth when I was 35 weeks pregnant and miserable. Listen, if you are pregnant and miserable the beach is the place to be, baby! DO IT! Every day we rolled out of bed and on to the beach where I sunned myself like one of those sea lions on the Pier in San Francisco. Max wave jumped like it was his job and gave impromptu Beatles concerts and Huck celebrated the fact that he was privvy to the world’s largest sandbox. Huck never met a sandbox he didn’t love.
Funniest part of the trip was when I packed a big thermos of ice chips to take to the beach and Max said “good idea, mommy. That way you’ll have something to eat if you get hungry.” How quickly they learn.
It was fantastic! I contracted here and there and had to take it easy a few times but mind over matter I was enjoying this trip! We took the kids to Funland and the boys went to the water slide park with Daddy and Grandpa while we took in the outlets. It was wonderful!
We were set to come home on Saturday and on Friday night it happened. Oh! The contractions! I was pretty sure the contractions were strong but mostly that I had somehow popped a hip out and the contractions were pulling it. I have NEVER had pain like that. Thanks to autocorrect I was able to send Zach a text that said simply “Pain” he came in and at one point we actually really thought this baby might be born right there in the shower at the beach house. Luckily the beach house had a vast amount of hot water and eventually they eased and I was able to sleep.
We managed the road trip home with a quick stop at Candy Kitchen for some supplies and my little contraction timer going the whole while! Every ten minutes like clockwork…I was relieved we were heading home towards my very own doctor and the hospital I was comfortable. The idea of a C-section by a doctor I had never met was a little scary to me.
Sunday was spent lounging by the pool at my friend Kelly’s house, Max and Huck splashed and swam and played with their friends and had a great time. I was so thankful for good friends who helped keep my kids busy and happy while I, yet again, sat with my feet up contracting. (Extra bonus shout out to Kelly’s husband Sean who is my chiropractor and who showed that hip who was boss and adjusted my midback and neck like a madman. God bless Chiropractors!)
But we were home, and if she was ready, I was ready. I was more than ready. All the contracting and not being able to eat anything can really wear a gal down. And honestly? I was bored of myself. Bored of feeling sick all the time. bored of being grumpy. Bored of throwing up. Bored of contracting. I just wanted her here safely and I wanted to be ME again.
But as I sat poolside I really knew just how lucky complaining, whiny, contracty, pukey me, really was. So lucky.