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the story of lincoln and vivian’s arrival. part 2.

part one here.

The following couple of weeks were spent on our couch for the most part.  Ironically, we had made plans with several different people, so everything got moved to our house.  I spent the days shopping online for baby clothes, reading baby books and directing my Jon and my mom from the couch as they took care of things for the nursery – decorating, washing and putting away clothes a diapers, etc.  It was definitely challenging to not be able to get up and do thing myself. I wanted to prepare the nursery with Jon.  I wanted to wash their little clothes and organize their drawers.  I had looked forward to all of these things for my whole pregnancy, thinking I would do them as soon as school was out.  But while it was challenging and disappointing, I was so thankful to have people who were willing to step in and take care of things for me.

On Friday, the 8th of June, my mom came over to work on stuff, and I was keeping her company from the couch.  I felt especially tired that day and also just didn’t feel good in general.  We had plans to have friends over that night, and I was seriously thinking it might not be a good idea.  But in the end I was too excited to hang out after being sequestered to the couch for so long.  With all the fun brought by our friends, I seemed to forget all about the pain and tiredness of the day.

But that didn’t last long.

The next morning began bright and early with pains in my stomach.  At the risk of revealing TMI, bedrest and a recent increase of my iron supplement had me dealing with a little bit of constipation.  Okay, a lot.  So by late afternoon (and after an entire day spent on the couch), I was convinced that the stomach pains I was having were a symptom of that.  Around eight o’clock though, the pain had gotten intense enough that I decided to call labor and delivery (being Saturday night my doctor’s office was closed) and just make sure that they thought everything was okay.  After talking to a nurse named Kenzie, I felt even more certain that everything was just fine.  She gave me a few suggestions to try and deal with the constipation, and so I sent Jon on a chase to track down the remedies she recommended.  When he got back we settled into the couch and did our classic Saturday night activity – watching falling asleep to a movie.  Several hours later at about 1 am we woke up and moved it to our bedroom at which point my pain really started acting up.  As Jon dozed off, I laid beside him, moaning each time the wave of pain came over me (you see where this is going).  Sleep did not come.  About thirty minutes later, my husband, who thankfully is a lot wiser than I am, suggested we go to the hospital.  Not wanting to make a big deal out of nothing, and at 32 weeks assuming it was nothing, I protested, but finally agreed to at least call back labor and delivery and see what they thought about the fact that I was still in so much pain.

After a quick recap of the preceding hours, Kenzie casually suggested that we head up to the hospital, just to make sure everything was okay.  I remember thinking that it was so dumb to go, but I couldn’t shake the fear that my pain was somehow affecting my babies, and that was enough to get me in the car and on our way within a few minutes.  I had just taken a shower that evening and my hair was all a mess, I had no makeup on, and I just pulled on some yoga pants, a tshirt and some flip flops.  I didn’t even take my purse or my phone because obviously I was going to be back within an hour or so.

My plan was to walk in, get a quick ultrasound done to make sure the babies were okay and then be on my merry way.  Approaching the check in desk, I ducked my head as the nurse questioned who we were and what we needed.  I just felt embarrassed for some reason.  I was one of those girls. One of those who goes to the hospital five times before ever actually being in labor.  And I wasn’t proud of it.  Let’s just get this over with, I thought.  Besides, after riding in the car for 15 minutes and walking through the hospital, my pain had surprisingly subsided to the point of being just a dull ache, which of course only made me feel that much more silly for being there.

After filling out some paperwork, we were ushered into a room where Kenzie tossed me a gown and a cup to get a urine sample.  Hold up, I thought.  I do not need these things.  Just check my babies and let me go home.  I was baffled as to why I needed to put on an actual hospital gown.  Little did I know, I wouldn’t wear anything but that for another 11 days.

to be continued…

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3 Responses to “the story of lincoln and vivian’s arrival. part 2.”

  1. I actually went to the hospital last Saturday after suffering through the entire night with contractions. As a seasoned mom I thought I was in labor but after being monitored for 2 hrs they sent me home. So I know the feeling of not wanting to be that girl and I was! I balled the moment we stepped outside the double doors of the hospital. Looking forward to hearing the rest of the story.

    [Reply]

    candice Reply:

    As dumb as that feels, it definitely never hurts to be on the safe side. I’d much rather feel a little silly than have my baby on the way to the hospital!

    [Reply]

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  1. the story of lincoln and vivian’s arrival. part 3.|Chia Seed Me - [...] Part 1. [...]
  2. over the weekend…|Chia Seed Me - [...] get started on those types of posts, but once I do it all comes pouring out. You can read ...

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