So This Is What Labor Feels Like

I can tell by my sister's part of the conversation, my brother-in-law is losing his patience. He can't find my list and his daughter is screaming. My sister says, "Well then go change her and call me back."

Just as my sister hangs up the phone, the doctor arrives. He decides he's going to break my water...goody for me. I'm not exactly sure what to expect when he says that, but I guess it just means I'll be one step closer.

As the doctor feels my stomach, I say, "How much do you think he will weigh? I want to see if you or my doctor is closer."


He puts his hand on the top and bottom of my stomach and then one hand on each side and says, "Seven pounds...even."

He gets into position, and as soon as the sac is broken, I feel a warm liquid on the large potty pad that's underneath me--you know the type you put in a dog cage for them to use. It's the strangest feeling that warm liquid under you. As the doctor stands up, he says, "Let's see how you progress now."

He leaves and the nurse asks, "Are you okay?"

Sure I'm okay, I feel like I just peed on myself.

She puts a wet wash cloth on my forehead. I immediately take it thank you! I don't want something on my face.


Within a few minutes after the doctor leaves, my eyes shock themselves open and my face jerks. I feel it. NOW, I know what a freaking contraction feels like....excuse me, can I have it the other way, please!

"What the heck is that," I say to my sister not wanting a response.

She says, "And now you know why no one could believe you weren't feeling anything. Because that's what you were supposed to be feeling at a four or a five."

"Well, I must say, I like it better when I didn't feel them."

I feel it happens as the pain from the next contraction begins. It's as though I can't control it even if I wanted to. The tears constantly stream down my face, and my hands grip the blanket. Jessica just breathe, I say to myself. I just have to remind myself to breathe...breathe through the pain.

Pain is only temporary. only...temporary. Pain--What the beep--is only--What the beep-- temporary.

Yes, I actually say, "What the beep," as opposed to cursing. I continue this thought as the next contraction begins to take over my breathing. I roll myself on my right side, hoping the tears and the pain will subside. Ever since the first contraction, the tears have been continuously flowing. I can't stop them. I think it's due to my being in so much pain.

"I'm so hungry, when can I eat?"

My sister answers me, "For the hundredth time, when the baby is born. They don't want something in your stomach."

"That's ridiculous and stupid...and doesn't make sense (even though she has explained that if they have to do a C-section it's bad to have food in the stomach). I'm starving. I'm about to eat my arm (a famous saying shared by my sister and me). I should have eaten more at mom's house. It just didn't sound good at the time. I need some water. I'm so parched."

"You can have some when the baby comes."

"What the heck. I'm thirsty."

I go to lie back down, but I feel pressure in my stomach. Before I can think what might be happening, I know this all too familiar feeling. "Get me a trash can."

She says, "From where?"

Half way sitting up, I say, "I don't care, from anywhere. What about that one," pointing to only one I see...a talk kitchen size trash can.

She responds, "I'm not going to bring that all the way over here."

"Oh my gosh. Just get my something...FAST!"

I'm leaning to my right, as she hands me a bag just in time. I dry heave a few times, before food can be seen. It's coming out my nose, and my heads shaking as though I don't have control. I swing my legs over the side of the bed to get into a more comfortable position. Out of my peripheral, I can see my sister

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