This time last year, after spending the previous day feeling “off” and kneeling on the floor hanging over the ottoman, I decided to throw in the towel and stop working “until the baby arrived”.
I remember feeling like I was at the end of my rope, and that I just couldn’t go on another day thinking about anything except the baby arriving.
It turned out I got a half day off of work and my water broke a year ago this coming night. I must have known on some level that the time was close!
I remember going to bed on April 6, 2015 and Kyle talking to the baby in my belly, telling him to come out. He clearly heard his daddy, and at 12:59 (I think?) he made his intentions known – he was following instructions, and he was coming out.
I wish I could feel that feeling again every single moment of every single day. Not the physical feelings, obviously. Because ouch, and ew.
No, I want to feel the anticipation, the eagerness, the weight of such a momentous occasion, the joy, the relief…
Actually, you know what? None of those words do the feeling justice. I think there should be a new word invented for the feeling when you head to the hospital to have your first baby. It is unlike anything else, and it was one of the most wonderful feelings I’ve ever felt.
My breath catches in my chest when I relive those hours between when my water broke and when Lewis came. And here we are, a year later. I blinked and his first year flashed by. Wow. I’m in awe.