Go HERE for Part 1 of this exciting thriller of a story! :)
Monday, August 22nd I woke up feeling miserable and reluctant to head into town for my post due date doctor appointment. Of course, 2 small boys and a messy house are a good reason to escape for a couple of hours. Everything seemed fine and no sign of labor sent me home a little distraught and determined to change just that!
I had been banned early on in the pregnancy from mowing the grass due to the bumpy nature of our large tractor. It was my last ditch chance to use this bumpy ride and bring on full-force labor! Sure enough a haphazard trip through the pasture and I went to bed exhausted and sore. I could NOT get comfortable amid mounds of pillows, a heating pad, and assorted blankets. After an hour of tossing and turning, I felt the gentle tug of what I believed to be a labor pain. I shrugged it off and continued to lay in bed planning my next move to induce labor. No more than ten minutes later, I had another tug, not so gentle, and this time my mind started racing.
Should I wake Tim up? We don't have bags packed. This house is a disaster. That's okay, I usually have long labor anyways. I can clean if I cant sleep. Wait! I have a long TO DO list waiting for me tomorrow, including consignment sale drop-off. Its 11:00 pm. should I go ahead and take the boys up to my in-laws?! What am I thinking this is going to take forever. Slow down Heather and start with a bath.
And that is just what I did. I sat up, told Tim I was in labor, and headed to the bathroom for a nice long soak with a good book. Disappointingly enough, the bath was just as uncomfortable as my bed. Even more strange was the timing of contractions. Nothing seemed "textbook" and I could not find a pattern to my waves of pain. Tim trickled in soon after, unable to sleep after my nonchalant announcement. I sent him back to bed, dressed myself, and sat down at the computer to double check my research on labor and delivery.
My body was rebelling. I could not sit or stand for long, and laying down was out of the question. I poked my head in and told Tim to pack his bag and call his parents. It had only been a mere hour since labor had begun, but intuition AND pain were pushing me to the brink of sanity. I paced and panicked(internally) and paced some more for what seemed an eternity. My husband seemed to be taking his sweet time packing an overnight bag and other hospital essentials like computer and cell phone cords. My in-laws, neighbors to be more precise, had not appeared at our door yet.
Somehow I was able to convey to Tim that we needed to hurry. Like pronto. Like NOW! Grandmother and Papa appeared and whisked 2 sleepy big brothers away while Tim expertly squeezed our hospital bags in and around the overflowing mass of consignment merchandise. I waddled out and we took off leaving dirty dishes, piles of dirty clothes, unmade beds, toys scattered... chaos--my mortal enemy!
Now the contractions were rolling on top of each other some more severe than others, but I wasn't getting a break. I blatantly told Tim DO NOT STOP. RUN EVERY RED LIGHT. I'll handle the cops. It took every ounce of my being to stay in the van. I focused on the odometer and kept reminding my husband, who was not in labor, to DRIVE FASTER. Neither one of us knew just how close I was to delivering.
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