That Magical Day I Became a Mother – Part 1
~ It’s not very wise to go to a concert a few days before you are expecting to give birth to your first child. Keep reading to learn how I found that out.
I admit I might have been a bit crazy going to that concert I shared in my last post, knowing the due date of my baby was only a few days away. But I’ll be honest. I had to. I was just days away from being an unwed mother with at least fifty new things in life I’d have to get used to. Until then, I had to take any opportunity I could to think of just me, myself, and I.
Going to bed that night was the best it had been in weeks. Any comfort laying down in bed was still lacking, sure, but thinking of that amazing concert plus all that my best friend and I gabbed about made those aches and pains, plus the difficulty moving on my bed with my future daughter in my tummy just didn’t irritate me as much. I’m sure my pillow even sensed the extra joy I was feeling had me fall asleep a lot faster than the many nights before.
I just wish I could have felt the same way that next morning. Waking up noticeably earlier, and a lot more uncomfortable, I sensed something was not right.
Okay, what’s up? Most likely I’m just extra soar from going to the concert.
It’s only six o’clock. I guess I’ll just get up in a few minutes and eat something.
Suddenly, right then and there, I learned something.
I learned what those three words – YOUR WATER BROKE – meant.
What’s all this going to be like? How long will this take? I can already tell this is not gonna be fun. NO! Not the next contraction already!
My mother, your typical 55-year-old driver who normally took backroads to go anywhere, zoomed right along with that freeway, bypassing all other cars.
I’m at the hospital now. It’s actually happening. I can’t believe it!
I don’t dare go into detail about what took place except that having my older sister, the mother of two small boys, was a gem in helping me cope as contraction after contraction went by. The increase in pain and frequency seemed to be far above what I expected.
Five hours felt like five years, but at the same time felt five minutes. I’ll never forget when I finally gave in and told my doctor, “I feel I need that epidural stuff now. I don’t think I’m really mature enough to go through it all. If it’s this painful, and I most likely have hours still to go . . . “
For the life of me, I’ll never forget her reply.
“Too late. Time to push.”
To be continued.