On New Years Eve, I was crawling around on the bathroom floor of my best friend’s new house, where I had spent a majority of the evening. I was trying to rush through this contraction because I could hear everyone counting down to 2016 in the living room. Everyone was drinking sparkling fruit juice, and my glass was sitting in my place in the middle of all of them. I hurried out just in time for the “Happy New Year!” and caught the tail clinks of a toast.
Why didn’t you go home or to a hospital if your contractions were that bad, Rachel?
Let me set this up for you. It’s New Years Eve. Two nights ago, I called the midwife to tell her I was having pretty regular contractions. She suggested taking a tylenol PM and trying to sleep. Sure enough, it wasn’t real labor.
That same night, Toby and I had been out on a date at Macaroni Grill.
Now, on New Years Eve, we had taken my sister to Cici’s for dinner. So I thought maybe having big meals was causing contractions. This is the first of many reasons I decided I was positively not going into labor tonight.
The reason we took my sister to dinner was that my parents and other sister were across the state seeing Willie Nelson in concert. Dinner was early because we already had plans to go hang out at my friend’s new house for a small New Years Eve party.
Here’s a fun excerpt from when we were making these plans:
Never say never, folks.
So around 10 I started having contractions. At some point I went to the bathroom (the first of many trips) and discovered I was also bleeding just a tiny bit. So I low key texted my husband that I was having contractions about 7 minutes apart and that I had a teeny bit of bloody show. First he asked if we should leave. I said no! I’m fine. He asked if he should call the midwife. I said no! Don’t bother her on new years eve. He asked if I wanted to tell my friends. I said no! It was probably nothing and I didn’t want to freak them out. He asked if he needed to run out to the car to grab some feminine products from our go bag. I said no! It was so light, there was no problem. But he insisted I probably needed something just in case, and suggested seeing if my friend had any in her bathroom because she was, in fact, a girl.
So as not to arouse suspicion, I didn’t ask. I’m sorry, I know she’d understand. Bathroom trip number two! Not only did she indeed have pads, but she had the same brand I use!
It was less than two hours until midnight. Labor takes longer than that. Even if I was in labor, I had plenty of time to stay and play. So I settled in. And the contractions got longer and stronger. I started going to the bathroom every few contractions to work through them without people wondering why I was pacing/rocking/aggressively pushing my face into cold tile.
By the time midnight rolled around, contractions were still 6 minutes apart but they were getting extremely intense. Basically I was running for the bathroom every 6 minutes and that’s obnoxious. My friends were so sweet about it though! They never made fun of me or even pointed it out. They even offered me pillows to help me get comfy for the brief stints I spent sitting on the couch! I thought I must just have the sweetest, most thoughtful friends ever.
And I do! But I found out later that during one of my many disappearances, Husband went ahead and told them what was going on – and not to tell me that he told them what was going on. Which really was what I wanted most – for them to know, but to act like they don’t know, but to also be nice to me. Keep in mind, this was not insensitive of anyone – we all collectively thought this was false labor.
So that brings us to where we opened – me on the bathroom floor during the countdown.
When I returned, we toasted and shared our resolutions. And my plan was to leave after that was done. But guess what? I continued to make completely irrational choices because hey, I was on a roll. We had been playing through Kingdom Hearts: Birth By Sleep all night, and we were almost to the end of the game!
So I stayed until we hit the final boss and my contractions were 4 minutes apart. I thought I was doing an ok job acting like I was fine, but I probably wasn’t. My friends were just also acting like I was fine. I have such good friends. We beat the game somewhere around 2 am – and I hurried out during the end credits. Yes, I decided to skip the after credits scene.
I had to start making rational decisions eventually!
So, yes. The first four+ hours of my labor were spent at a New Years Eve party with me looking like this the entire time:
Happy New Years! I’m not drunk but I am going to go home, throw up, get naked, and roll around on the floor yelling incoherently.
Tune in next time to see why I didn’t just go to the freaking birth center like any sane person would at this point!