Early Labor Signs & Water Buffalos

I’m almost to full panic mode.

I asked Taylor if we could skip church last Sunday because I was “uncomfortable”. We went on a family walk to get donuts instead. That always makes me more comfortable.

There just comes a point in pregnancy where maternity clothes stop fitting, putting on underwear (let alone pants) causes searing pain, and questions about your impending labor make you twitch.

I have reached such a point.

Early Labor Signs

Daily – nay, multiple times a day – when I’m feeling extra claustrophobic, I Google signs of early labor. If you could see my history, you’d never speak to me again. It’s included searches like “eye twitch”, “right calf pain”, and other ridiculousness.

Allegedly no one can tell you for sure when it’ll happen, but after my extensive research, I’ve compiled the following list:

• Sudden burst of energy. Or not. Some people actually get really tired.
• Nausea. Or extreme hunger. Definitely one of the two.
• Cervical changes. Except sometimes you can be dilated for years.
• Cramping. Actually this is tricky because it could be real labor cramping, or just “ate Chipotle too many times this week” cramping. Use your best judgement there.
• Irritability. No, wait, that’s just a pregnancy symptom in general when you reach hippo size.
• Insomnia and/or restlessness. This is for REAL a labor sign. But it’s kind of also just what happens when you are physically uncomfortable 100% of the time. So.
• Weight loss or plateau. Usually a sign, except Girl Scout cookie season.
• Contractions. Definitely labor. Unless they’re Braxton Hicks, which can feel a lot like early labor.
• Water breaking. This is a sure thing. Unless you *think* your water is leaking/has broken and really you just peed your pants. (I wouldn’t know anything about that from last pregnancy and most CERTAINLY did not go to the hospital to get checked out hahaha…hahah..haha..ha…h.)

So, hope that clears things up for everyone.

If all else fails, check the countdown timer on the right side of your belly. Once that turns hits zero and starts beeping, head on to the hospital. It’s go time.

Water Buffalos

Monday, Beckett and I went to Chick-fil-A for lunch. It’s our restaurant of choice on days that end in y.

We went to the one by our old house, because it has the best (and tallest) playscape. So after lunch, the Beck disappeared into the grease tubes.

After several minutes, I realized it had been a while since I’d seen him come up or down.

I felt a little ridiculous being worried because he’s been navigating these things successfully for a while, but there were at least 148 other kids playing in there and you just never know.

They should really make more windows on those tunnels. I couldn’t for the life of me find him.

After a few minutes of watching and listening, I heard my favorite little high-pitched voice quiver out a, “Mooommmmmy?” from the somewhere in the bowels of the tubes.

Me: “Beckett?”
{hoards of children screaming like banshees}
Me: {louder} “Beck man – where are you?”
Hoards of children: “WJAWOEIFJ;OAWJEFO;CAW!!!!!!!!”
Me: {loudest} “Hey buddy…can you hear me?”

When the feral children quieted down for a second, I heard Beckett burst into hysterical tears and yell for me. I still couldn’t see him, but I knew he was very, very far up in there. I panicked.

I looked around the room at the other moms for…guidance? help? advice?

No dice.

A few had a “That sucks.” look.

The rest just looked at me with blank “I almost gave my child away this morning and this is my 6 minutes of time to sit and stare without being touched or whined at.” stares.

Pleasant.

So at a whopping 38.5 weeks pregnant…

I began the disgusting, contractiony journey to the top of the 17-story Chick-fil-A playscape.

And that’s when Hutton made his grand debut into the world!!!

Just kidding. Although that would be a hilarious story.

But seriously, I wish you could have seen the other kids’ faces as they turned the corner and saw what appeared to be a water buffalo heading towards them. There was actual terror in their eyes.

I finally found Beckett and his tear-streaked cheeks (at a high enough altitude that I swear the air was thinner) and slid back out. Yes, slid. Birthed myself through the Chick-fil-A playscape slide.

(I suspect he was bullied by some of the older kids judging by the chatter I heard in tunnel 4, but I won’t know the full story until the Punk Kid Patrol investigators get back to me.)

Even as my bulbous self emerged from the slide and I made eye contact with the other moms – nothing. It wasn’t entertaining to them in the least. Whatevs. But don’t come crying to me when you get your kid’s first therapy bill. You could’ve helped a sister out.

My mom asked later why I didn’t get an employee to help. My response: “For one, I didn’t remember Beckett’s shirt color. For two, the only employee not behind the counter was the man with one arm, and I just didn’t see that being an easy climb for him either.”

Desperate times, you guys.