I remember lying down on a futon in the living room and watching a
movie. But really, I kept watching the belly. It was Wednesday night. I
was laying there just looking at my big glorious belly in awe. I would
see it move and do waves. I could see the baby make bumps in it as he
moved. I could see it jump when he kicked. I remember watching my
beautiful belly move and knowing my wee alien, my Zachary, was tucked in
there safe where he could grow and thrive. I, lying in the twilight of
my living room, was watching my huge tummy silhouetted against the
brightness of the television in awe and wonder and I felt happy,
content, at peace, amazed.
It didn’t matter that I was getting fatter than a Hippopotamus, that
my butt was now huge. It didn’t matter that I had all sort of stretch
marks, odd stray hairs or difficulty reaching my toes. It didn’t even
matter that I had acid reflux non stop, that I had lumbar back pain or
that I had the mother of all sciatica. I figured, I still had 6 glorious
weeks of being pregnant, of watching my tummy swell as my baby boy grew
safely inside my tummy. I had 6 weeks to go and I was so happy that I
did.
I definitely hadn’t reached that point I see so many pregnant women
reach…that point where they are sick and tired of the pregnancy
experience and they just want the baby out and in their arms already. I
was far, VERY FAR from there and enjoying every minute of waddling, belly watching, belly rubbing pregnancy I had.
I did NOT get to have that feeling of ‘Okay, time to give
birth I have had enough”. I was still at “Look at my beautiful belly,
how awesome is that!”.
So, I remember watching my belly and being so happy because I thought I had at least 3-6 more weeks…
Thursday September 1st, I woke up, like every other morning of the
last few weeks, with an overwhelming need to pee. So, I painfully got up
and waddled and hobbled my way to the bathroom. After being done
peeing, I started hobbling back to the bed when, “phloosh”, some water
started dripping down my legs. My first reaction was a form of denial.
So I thought to myself, “oh great, I have reached total incontinence and
am now peeing all over myself”. So I went back to the toilet as quickly
as I could and sat down. But after a while of dripping and not feeling
like the dripping was actually pee, I called the hospital’s obstetrics
unit. They said, put a pad on and that way you will know how much fluid
you are loosing and what kind.
So I did exactly that but decided it was time to finalize my luggage
for the hospital just in case. As I am doing that with Hubby’s help, I
suddenly find myself sitting in a huge puddle of clear odorless liquid
and then I know, my water broke…
Chaos ensues… I know everything went calmly. We made our way to the
hospital, waited for obstetrics to confirm my fears and let me know what
was gonna happen. Then we called those who needed calling. All went
well and it was calm. But it is inside that the chaos was raging. All
sorts of thoughts, emotions, feelings that I have yet to sort through. I
mean, I focused on what needed to be done and that was that.
Then it was time to give birth. And I did. I was told I did well. I
will most likely write about this later but for now I am still reeling
from it all. Once I gave birth, the baby was put on me for a few
seconds, and then he was gone to neonatal care. I was moved to a post
delivery room and then discharged. Baby Zachary is still in the neonatal
care unit. Up to now, I have only gotten to hold him 4 times including
when I gave birth.
I could and should go to the neonatal unit more often to visit but
the truth is, it is a long trip for me because of my sciatica and I am
so
