Let's back up a ways...

With both kidos (when are you allowed to start saying, "all my kids"? When you have three? Four? Hmmm...), I have pretty bummer contractions about three months before they actually decide to arrive. It seems pretty routine for me. Ew. However, over the past two weeks before "go-time" (meaning delivery), I was starting to have very regular contractions randomly through out the day. Nothing I could pin-point would actually start them, or likewise, stop them. These theatrics were getting old... Before that point, they would generally come when I was walking, sitting, etc. but once I stopped that specific "activity", they would generally go away, only to come back and visit later. However, during those last two weeks, they would come, and stay no matter what I did, then go away, for no reason. It was not very comfortable.

Just before the weekend came, I just knew this baby was going to come. I had one-of-those-feelings. No one would believe me though. At our last doctor visit, our doctor wanted to induce me. That day. She had a list of reasons, none of which really hit me hard enough. Nope. I'm a pretty stubborn girl. There would be no inducing for our little family. And have my own list of reasons. Go ahead and throw rocks at me, whatever, but I'm not into inducing. Too bad I took off anonymous comments, because I'm sure there are plenty of people out there having a cow about that staement--- however, another day, another blog post.

Back to my story: So, Sunday, all morning, all during church, all through out the day, I knew it even more: this baby was coming. I felt like the biggest snob at church, just not talking to anyone, while I was having contractions every 3 minutes apart. When I'm in pain, I just don't talk... I become a silent fly on the wall. So, as people asked about my impending due date coming up that week, or tried to start up a friendly conversation, I felt bad about all my one word answers; hope I didn't offend anyone, or come off too harsh. I just couldn't breathe, ya know?

I came home from church, put J down for a nap, and text messaged Chris: I'm going to have this baby. Real soon. Like tomorrow?

He didn't believe me... go figure.

So, what do I do when I'm in early labor? Go to Jackie and Chris' house!! What else? J woke up from his nap, and in between my contractions (which weren't too bad... just suffocating. Not excruciating at this point though), I loaded up the boy, and off we went, just like last time. HA! I sat at her house, and watched her do her thing (they were moving; I was worthless---just sat there, focusing on the coming and going of each contraction, and trying to keep J out of things). After I realized how worthless I must have seemed, J and I went back home.

I text messaged Chris again: I'm serious... I think.

J and I partied, waiting for Chris to get him from his never ending Sunday meetings. Just our luck, they had all kinds of extra meetings going on, keeping him away all afternoon. I was not a super happy camper. Sorry.

Hours later, Chris finally got home. He asked very non-chalantly, "So, was your text for real?" Sigh. I told you, he never believes me on these labor things. I explained that I was having contractions every three minutes, very consistently, but they weren't super painful. I figured I had a few good solid hours before the bad ones really kicked in. He wondered if I wanted to go to the hospital. I'm really into "laboring at home", and just waiting things out until I can't stand being at home anymore. I also had decided that no way in heck was I going to sleep at the hospital for any unnecessary amount of time. I hate that place: I knew if we went too early they would hook me up to pitocin (I am truly convinced this island is pitocin happy) almost as soon as possible, which would really kick me into labor (which would be a good thing), but I would not get to sleep at all that night (which would be a bad thing). I knew I would need my energy for another long haul labor, and figured sleeping at our house that night would be the best bet. If I was still having contractions in the morning, we would head in. If not, then....not.

Putting J to bed was just the start of the emotional over load. I really dragged out our bed time rituals. Really... I knew this was the last time I would put him to bed, before his world got turned upside down. I couldn't let him go. I just held him. For. a .very. long. time. I'm sure he thought I was crazy, but was totally digging this extended bed time ordeal. Finally we put him to bed. And then I cried. For. a .very. long. time.

The nerves had kicked in. I couldn't wrap my head around the "two kid" thing. I couldn't figure out how I was supposed to be able to love both kids as much as I love my J. I didn't want to ruin J. What have I done!? I became some what hysterical. I love that little boy more than my soul could have ever comprehended. I knew I could not physically love another human that much again. The water works went on, and my husband just held me. And listened. Finally, after I had completely exhausted myself between the on going contractions, the hysterics, and tears, I fell asleep...

J back in March... he is still such a baby in my head