a day of rest

This morning was one of those perfect Sunday mornings you wait all summer for. The weather has finally cooled off a bit, so after church, Steve and I drove down to the St. Paul Farmer's Market and ambled around, buying fresh corn on the cob for lunch, red potatoes and leeks for soup, a bottle of locally made honey, some homebaked scones and croissants. When we were finished, we wandered across the street to the Black Dog Café and bought some drinks and sat outside reading The New York Times. Then we drove home and boiled some of the corn — so sweet and delicious — and then I took a little nap while Steve puttered around in the yard.

Huh? What?

What about all those contractions? What about finally being in labor at last? Isn't this the post where I'm supposed to tell you the baby was born last night? That we've finally met our new little boy? That we're giddy and exhausted?

That's what I would have thought too ... 24 hours ago.

But something strange has happened. This labor has stalled. Somewhere in the wee hours of early morning, after a mostly sleepless night of seven-minute-apart contractions — and after more than 24 hours of what they typically call "early labor" — complete with lots of lower back pain, I suddenly started getting some sleep. And the contractions just ... eased off. Sure, I still have them — one of them hit me toward the front of the Communion line this morning, causing me to grab the nearest pew momentarily, and the priest raised his eyebrows as he saw me approach, still pregnant. But they're random and weaker than they were yesterday, and for the most part, I don't feel like a woman in labor.

I was pretty anxious about this when I woke up at 9. Anxious and nervous and uncertain about what it all means and when things might pick up again. I was closer to tears than I have been throughout the whole last week, and it was all I could do to tell Steve I'd be OK if he went out for a morning run. I called our doula — we've been on the phone together a half dozen times in the past few days — and told her what was going on. Oh ... that's more common than you might think, she said. It's possible, especially given all the back pain I've had, that the baby isn't positioned very well yet — that he's turned around, or his head just hasn't found a good position against my pelvis. Positioning issues can lead to long early labors, and even stalled labors. She gave me some ideas for ways I might be able to encourage him to turn on his own, which I've been trying, and it's possible that some of them are working because my contractions today haven't been so painful on my back.

So I took a shower, washed my hair, shaved my legs (again thinking, this may be the last time I do this before I meet our son). The holding pattern continues. I have really loved being able to soak in an unexpected day of late-August weather ... but I really thought we'd be spending the day in the hospital, and I'd be so happy to be there tonight.

That is, as soon as we've had a chance to try this leek and potato soup!