This past weekend I was making brownies to bring with me to see my brother and my sister-in-law and my sister-in-law's sister and my niece---and boy do I love being able to say that! It is so nice having them close enough that I can be all, "Oh, yeah, just driving over to see them this afternoon!"
Anyway, so I was making brownies, and EVERY TIME I make brownies I think about being in labor with my firstborn. The day before he was born, I woke up and my water broke. Paul went to work anyway, because it was 2 weeks and a day before the due date and everyone had been "FIRST BABIES ARE LATE!!" and so he had some work project he really felt like he needed to wrap up before taking 2 weeks off. (My feeling, by the way, is that he was also panicking.)
I was only having tiny twinges, not even anything I'd call a contraction, so I put a couple of dishtowels in my pants and puttered around, tidying up and putting the last few things in my hospital bag, and changing my towels repeatedly and doing laundry so I'd have more towels. It was still a few more hours before the OB's office would be open (I could have had her paged, but it didn't seem like there was any reason to), so I thought I'd put together some food for Paul to eat at the hospital. I made sandwiches and packed baby carrots and granola bars, and that's when I decided to make brownies.
The whole time I was making them, I was in this DAZE of "OMG BABY COMING! OMG BABY COMING!" And I was SO happy and relieved, because labor had started in the EXACT way I wanted it to: I'd been very nervous about false labor and false alarms and going "Should we call? I don't know. No, don't call. But maybe we should?," but when your water breaks you are IN LABOR and no one has to ask you questions about whether you know about Braxton-Hicks contractions. (Although, as it turns out they DO ask you if maybe you actually peed your pants, but then I could say "Not unless my bladder is large enough to soak all the towels we have in the house.")
Also, I was so glad to have some time to THINK and PUTTER: no rushing off, plenty of time to put out extra cat food for the cats, and buy that day's newspaper (we had a newspaper machine in our apartment parking lot---I didn't, like, go to the STORE with towels stuffed in my pants) (and also, it turned out to be useless since the baby wasn't born until the next day), to shower and wash my hair and shave my legs.
And I was almost GIDDY about being on the early end of normal instead of the late end. And that I had bought the car seat THE DAY BEFORE. And that now we were going to miss our last two childbirth classes (bad weather had caused several to be delayed) (one of the classes we missed was on c-sections, which I ended up having, so that was too bad but I don't think a class would have been much help anyway).
There wasn't anyone to call, because we'd decided not to let anyone know anything was happening until the baby had arrived. (We didn't want people visiting or fretting or, in the case of my mother-in-law, getting miffed because we weren't calling often enough with updates on how things were going.) So to me it felt like entering this sealed CHAMBER of labor: it has begun, and it won't end until a baby is born, and everyone we know thinks I'm going about my usual day but it is NOT USUAL AT ALL!
Since I was making brownies while in this happy daze, it's gotten completely linked: every time I make brownies I remember the happiest part of labor.
Gift ideas for an 8-year-old, part 2 of 2 - Last week I talked about the gifts we were getting/considering for Edward, who is turning 8 next month. This week it’s Elizabeth’s turn: not “girl gifts,” ...