It was 5:30 a.m. when I checked the clock. More pregnancy insomnia. Made a mental note to wish Mom a happy birthday.
Rolled over to relieve the burgeoning hip pain from laying on the doctor-approved left side … when it happened. One month to go and I developed another embarrassing pregnancy symptom — incontinence.
Did I really just pee myself?
Cautiously, I rolled my big belly out of bed. “They” say, if you stand up and gush, it’s your water. I braced. No gush.
I headed out for a morning of errands terrified that everyone on the train, in town, everywhere would see I’d sprung a leak. Sophie had her 18 month check up. No chance I could sit this one out at home. All morning, with teeny tiny steps, I pushed Sophie in her stroller, clenching my legs, through our hilly neighborhood, waiting for any sign that today was game day.
As hours ticked by, and things didn’t let up, doubt in the pee theory grew. My baby doc wasn’t so sure either. I made an appointment for later that night to determine one way or another whether the next grocery list would include adult or newborn diapers.
I called Dom and, just in case, packed my hospital bag.
Evening came and Dom drove me to the hospital. When I left the car, Sophie, who had been particularly affectionate all day, burst into tears. I guess she knew something big was about to change because within two minutes, the midwives confirmed I had not peed myself. They said: “you can’t leave until you have this baby.”
So much for another Hollywood myth — water gushes followed by an onset of contractions.
Contractions were going nowhere. Since I’d had a previous C-section, induction was out of the question – a point of some debate, but that’s neither here nor there. My hopes for a natural delivery were fading.
My doctor came by to wish me good luck. She was heading for a weekend on the slopes. Another surgeon would deliver this baby. I was given a few more hours to see what my body might do, some antibiotics to stave off infection. By the time morning turned to afternoon, I was resigned to go under the knife.
With family and friends’ encouragement, I accepted the new direction. Thirty three hours after my water broke I was being prepared for surgery. Prepared to meet my baby girl.
A few less than comfortable moments and my baby girl was born a month early with perfect scores, pink and wide-eyed as they come.
Welcome to the world, Olivia!