1:06 I'm sitting at FSI right now on a parking lot median. I am doing this because John is inside taking class. I woke him at 4:55 this morning and said, "I don't think you'll be going to school today." He told me later he regrets not responding, "Did it snow?" We spent the first part of the morning packing last little things, showering, and counting contraction timing. We drove to John's mom's house with Dakota to drop him off and then to the hospital. When we got there, I was concerned. THe contractions were slowing instead of gaining, and we could very well get all the way checked in there and be told to go home. Thankfully, we did turn around after parking and went to John's sister's house, near the hospital. The contractions slowed more. Required frequency is 1 every 5 minutes, each lasting 1 minute long, for 1 hour. While I had gotten to four minutes between some, eventually I slowed to one every 15, then 20. We chatted a while longer with Mary and then drove to Dunkin Donuts, and to home. It is a great and wonderous thing to be tongue-tied in Dunkin Donuts because one is having a contraction.
At home we both took naps - I got two 30 minute ones in as the contractions slowed. Got back up when doctor's office called to cancel my Wednesday appointment (!) expecting it would be the advice nurse calling me back (!) but it wasn't (!). Watched an episode of House, occasionally pausing it to stagger drunkenly in circles around the downstairs in pain.
Then John got up too, and he drove us to campus. Since they're only allowing him to take two days off school without having his Arabic class canceled, we figured it would be worth it to check the box for today. What an insane practice. He hoped that if I did end up having the baby at FSI, Secretary Rice would hear about it and learn WHY exactly a family member felt he had to leave his wife contracting in a parking lot.
It's a beautiful day to be born - breeze, bright sun, blue sky, humid Virginia air, cicaidas quietly humming on the trees.
And my emotions right now? Practical. Not really poetic at all. This morning as I crept into bed to wake John up, I felt a bit wistful, and wanted to treasure every moment left when it was just the two of us. Before that, in the dark house, downstairs, before he was awake, I felt watchful. Each day closer to this birth has been a step further from understanding what it means. I've given up even trying to visualize life when she's here - all I can think about are the practicalities of diapers and sleeplessness, and there's no way to anticipate the state of my heart.
She's still kicking around through all this. Shifting and squirming, doing her usual independant things.Posted by argus at September 8, 2008 11:23 PM