He thinks it's funny that it's taken me this long to write his birth story.

My son is one week old today, and in honor of this milestone I thought I’d jot down my recollections of the day he entered the world.  This account is a compilation of things I remember and things I’ve since been told happened but that I could not directly recall.  You’ve been forewarned: This is going to be a long tale.

If you’ll remember, I went in for acupuncture two days before my due date (Monday).  The day after my acupuncture appointment, I’d had contractions off and on all day but they were nothing remarkable.  Wes brought home Chinese food Tuesday night, and while we were eating it I started having contractions every 10 minutes or so, lasting about  a minute each.

I kept them to myself, because they weren’t increasing in intensity, and by the time we went to bed they’d stopped.  I went to sleep consigned to the fact that I’d be going to my prenatal appointment the next day.

At 3:30 or so Wednesday morning (my exact due date) I was woken up by a contraction.  Nothing too painful per se, but enough to get my attention.  Contractions continued about eight minutes apart for the next hour, and I laid in bed and tried not to get too excited.  The contractions hurt, but not enough to make me think I might be in labor and I certainly didn’t want to wake Wes up for nothing.

Then, at 4:45 AM, the party got started.  And I do mean started.  Two very painful contractions, one right after another, about five minutes apart.  After the second one hit, I got a little scared and decided that, false labor or not, I needed Wes to support me.

I woke him up and he was great, rubbing my back and telling me I was doing well.  I commanded him not to get too excited, and assured him it was probably false labor, and he nodded and agreed while mentally getting a list together of all the stuff that needed to happen before we went to the birth center.

We moved our little labor party down to the family room at about 5 AM, because laying down in bed during contractions just didn’t feel quite right.  Wes put on the mix of soothing classical music he’d picked out for me, I lit some candles, and I just sat there and breathed through contractions for the next hour while Wes timed them.

Now, here’s the weird thing.  My contractions started off exactly three minutes apart (that’s three minutes from start to start) and lasted 45 seconds to one minute long, right from the beginning.  This is indicative of active labor more than early labor, and Wes started getting antsy when my contractions kept increasing in intensity and weren’t slowing down.

He called my midwife at 6 AM, and she assured him everything sounded great but not to come into the birth center until I felt like I could no longer manage my pain on my own.

At this point, I was still not convinced I was in labor.  My contractions felt like surges, and I used a visualization of boogie boarding to imagine myself rising up with each contraction and then relaxing as it subsided.  It must be noted here that at this point Wes was not allowed to be further than one foot away from me, and I refused to turn on any lights in the house.

About an hour later (time really does cease to exist when you’re in labor, as you’ll soon see), sitting down during contractions no longer felt right so I started pacing.  This is where labor went from manageable with breathing to demanding all my focus and concentration.

As each contraction warmed up, I felt immense downward pressure on my cervix and I would need to bend over and hold onto something (the arm of the couch, a stair railing post, the edge of the bed, etc.) and move my hips while the contraction raced through me.  They were speeding up, and getting more painful, and it was at this point I started vocalizing during each contraction.

I believe my ever-eloquent choice of words during each contraction was a forcefully uttered “OW“.

My water broke at around 7:30 AM (for all you pregnant ladies afraid if you won’t know when your water breaks…trust me, you’ll know), and Wes called the midwife to let her know that everything looked fine and there was no meconium in the fluid.  She said my contractions would probably pick up and to keep her in the loop.

My denial finally broken, I started giving Wes projects to do while I paced and focused during my contractions.  I really liked labor at this point, because while the contractions hurt, I loved feeling their intensity, knowing that each one was doing its job and bringing me closer to my baby.

At 8:15 AM, I told Wes we needed to get going to the birth center, that the contractions were too strong for me to handle in the car and that if they got any stronger I would, and I quote, “Tear the car apart like a rabid mongoose.”

We alerted my midwife, called family members to inform them that the baby was definitely on his way, and spent 20 minutes trying to get everything into the car.  We listened to Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon” in the car, but it wasn’t doing anything for me so Wes put in Radiohead’s “Hail to the Thief” and that hit the spot.

I suffered through five contractions in the car, and then, finally, we were at the birth center.

To be continued…Part Two can be found here!