There I was 41 weeks pregnant, talking to my mom about my birthing fears, and seeing my midwife once a week. My mom convinced me that there was no way my water would break on its own – and yet my midwife suggested I invest in a mattress protector.
It was a Tuesday night and I was even more uncomfortable than the previous nights. I couldn’t sleep for anything, so I took some benedryl in hopes that it would send me off to dreamland. I was having contractions but they were not very consistent or close together. I was so excited because I knew my babe would be making he debut at any moment, and I had no idea how it all would happen. I went to bed that night and my husband agreed to stay home with me the next day. All day on Wednesday nothing happened. NOTHING. We played games and hung out – but in the sense of our little bean coming to join us in the outside world – there was nothing.
We were still excited, and nervous. We went to bed that night and the contractions came back. My entire pregnancy Lo had moved around a lot at bedtime, so I figured he was going to be born at night. My contractions were getting more frequent and more consistent. I stayed up much too late and took my benedryl and fell asleep. Thursday Husboo stayed home from work again, but when nothing happened yet again – we decided he would return to work on Friday if Baby Boy wasn’t going to make his way out the womb.
Thursday night I wasn’t having any contractions at all. So Hubster planned on going in to work, and I planned on laying around with my cell phone near by just in case. We crawled into bed that night, and I laid on my side trying to get comfortable. I had an extremely sharp contraction – the most intense thus far and I thought, “Well, I guess I am going to sleep on my other side tonight!” Less than a minute later, another strong contraction came on, and at the height of it my water burst.
“uhhhh, babe?” I said.
“I know!!!” He replied. He jumped out of bed and hurried to get a towel to…you guessed it, clean HIMSELF off. Meanwhile, there I was in a puddle of gunk, and trust me, it was a puddle. I asked for a towel, and then made my way to toilet where I continued to leak in the most attractive way possible and called the midwives.
They had a lot of questions about whether I was sure that my water broke or not. I couldn’t stop leaking even I wanted to, so I was pretty insulted by this line of questioning. Although my water had broken, they also told me that I didn’t sound like I was in enough pain to be in active labor. I was kind of annoyed, but really wanted to play my cards right. I wanted the serenity of a warm birthing tub, low lights, my birthing playlist and essential oils, so if I had to wait for it, I would. She told me to continue to labor at home – and so I did. It was a bit against my better judgement, because I had a friend who went into labor entirely too soon – her water broke and she spent weeks in the hospital trying to not have her baby and also keep things sanitary because losing your water dramatically increases the chances for an infection. But, I was sitting on the toilet, in the middle of the night, what could I do?
She also told me to sleep if I could. That was a really good joke.