The day before was a blended mcflurry. Of smarties and m&ms, of reeses pieces and fudge. I never tasted any of it but I knew it was spinning. I knew The lid was about to come off and the contents were going to float. The Monday prior to the big day, I had my first pelvic exam ever. I wasn’t grossed out or nervous but it was the first real discomfort that I knew would click in with the rest of labour. She says it twice because I ask her to. ” your 3 cm dilated”. I wash myself. i pull my clothes on slowly. She states that I am in labour. And the words echo off the certified walls. Had I felt any such labour pain or cramping? None. I walked out of their with explosive options. Either wait till contractions became worthy of hospitilization or come in the next day for the oxytocin. In other words, to have the baby. I zombied around the halls. I zombied around the home. The doc had long ago told me that she wasn’t going to induce me if there were no signs of labour. My family and I all thought I would go past my due date. Here I was two days till that day and I had already been having progressive contractions. Without knowing. I decided that the more dilated i could get at home, the better. Besides, my sister hadn’t arrived yet. I went home and called my dad in brazil. He said he’d be on the next possible plane out. The very next day, the true mcflurry day, I woke up feeling like it was the
last one I’d be pregnant.
Everything in those 24 hours was done or said or looked at
with the heavy frost of knowledge that I would be a mother the next
day. I wasn’t in any pain but I knew The doctor was right and I
shouldn’t wait too long. I didn’t want the baby gettig bigger anyway.
It was the evening . I called the doctor up with puffs of cloudy
questions, worried that perhaps baby was getting stressed in there .
She advised against waiting and said to come in the following day- at
least to check how far I’d dilated.
With that set in stone, I began to get frantic.All the things I had
to do before baby came. The lid on the mcflurry mix flung off and
pieces went everywhere. I was standing at the bottom of a flight of
stairs outside, attempting to take the last of the belly photos when i
broke down. The world felt heavy to my eyes. I felt like a collapsable
tent myself. This was me shutting down.
But back home, for a good hour I went around the
house wide eyed and in a frenzy that noone could stop.
I was filling up soap containers, organizing my closet,
sweeping the floors and raking the lawn. Things had to feel done.
I laid in bed that night thinking it’d be the last full night of sleep
for awhile. How right I was. I held my breath as I entered Sleepville
that night and in the morning, I, along with all those pieces, were
floating. Were actually floating.