In the weeks leading up to Duke's arrival, things were getting interesting. Weeks 37-38 were filled with crazy sickness and I thought, "I'm never sick and this is miserable. Surely this must mean labor is around the corner." That sickness subsided, but was replaced with a really sore throat. "Okay, maybe this is the last straw before he comes." The sore throat went away and I had a day of annoying off-and-on headaches. "Alright, I've read headaches come right before you start going into labor." Headaches got better and here I was ... about a week until his due date.
Then, Friday came ... the day before Duke. I was feeling fine, my belly button was still not an outie, and I didn't have a weird vibe that he was coming anytime soon. Sara, Reese, and I got to have lunch together that day. We chose Ted's and we also asked for the spiciest salsa they had. I ate a LOT of food, tried a lot of spicy salsa, and drank a lot of coke.
We went back to my house and they took me on a 'walk.' This 'walk' was going to be THE walk ... the walk that made Duke come. We did intervals of walking, jogging, forward lunges, backward lunges (yes), and curb steps (Reese's idea ... one foot on the sidewalk, one foot on the curb). We were probably doing that for about an hour and a half. As people drove or walked by, Sara would make loud exclamations of, "We're going to have this baby!" The result? My contractions were closer together and were a bit stronger, but nothing to make a big deal about ... or so I thought.
Later that night, while Colt and I were enjoying Friday Night Lights and pumpkin coffee cake made by Reese, something started happening. My contractions had a new little friend accompanying them - a burning feeling. My doctor said when you have to stop mid-sentence to deal with a contraction, it's the real deal. That was exactly the case. I began to need to stand up, put my hands on my knees, and focus on getting through it. They weren't in the 'painful' category but they certainly were more uncomfortable than a regular ole Braxton Hicks.
I started timing them. After a few hours, the contractions went from 6-7 minutes apart to 3-5 minutes apart. A bath did not fix them. Nothing fixed them. These were the ones. I had Colt call the hospital to see what they thought about us coming in and they said we probably should. We both got showered and finished throwing a few more things in our bags. (Luckily, Sara made me start packing a bag a few days before, insisting that it could happen any day and I needed to be ready. Thank you, Sara. :))
The contractions started entering the painful phase by the time we left the house. In spite of our rush and my pain, I knew I needed this picture:
Here we are, around 1:30 a.m., getting ready to head to the hospital. My thoughts were ... Am I really getting ready to have a baby? I feel like I'm in a movie. I'm not old enough to have a baby. I wonder how much worse these contractions will get. I don't know what in the world I'm doing.
Next ... Duke's birth story ...