So after getting a testy email from my mother, who says I am not blogging fast enough for her taste (yes, she knows it has been school vacation week)I am posting over coffee while my husband cleans up the hot chocolate that our 4-year-old just spilled all over the kitchen.
Where did I leave off?
I was pretty sure I was in labor with intermittent contractions. My husband was rushing home through traffic. I had a car full of groceries and a kid in tow. I emptied the car, thinking it might help me realize if I was, in fact, in labor. With everything put away and my husband home, I began to time the contractions. They were about five minutes apart.
"You should call the midwife," he said.
We called, told her what was happening, and said we were OK on our own for now. She said to call her back as soon as I needed her and she was going to lay down and get some rest. It was about 7 p.m. I wanted to read our son a book before bed. But because I was so huge, and his twin bed sits high, I had been having difficulty reading to him in his own bed. So we all climbed into my bed and plugged in The Polar Express movie. My son and I drifted off to sleep. And then -- S-P-L-A-T. My water broke. It woke me up and I immediately jumped out of bed. My husband ran to get towels. This was no trickle. It was then that I noticed that the waters were tinged, a slight greenish brown.
"Quick!" I said. "Call the midwife!"