I never knew I never knew

(The long delayed story of my second son's birth)

So there it was, early afternoon on a Monday.  I was finally back at work after basically two weeks of sickness and exhaustion and holiday.  A huge mountain of work, a huge project looming, a huge amount to do.  And then this little message popped up on my gmail chat window:  Wife: "I'm feeling weird"

"Like, uh, how weird"

"Like I'm having contractions."

(jaw drops....cold chill enters my bones....think.)

"Um."

This conversation is happening at the beginning of week 35 of the pregnancy.  This isn't so bad, really.  Thirty five weeks is just a week or so away from the point where I was going to stop worrying about the pregnancy.  But that week or so was a little foolish optimism.  Our due date is a month away!  Just over a month actually.  So uncertainty began on Monday just after lunch.

By Tuesday we were calling the OB's office, who reminded the Wife that she had missed a doctor's appointment on Monday and yes, come in today.  So we piled the fam into the car and drove the 1.5 hour to the doctor's office.  There to be told this could last 4 weeks.   Ugh...but ok.  We don't want him to come yet.  So we went back home.   Around 7 30, son slips in the kitchen and splits his lip open.  Blood everywhere.

But the contractions continued.  At 11 30, we called the local hospital.  They said: "Well, you're early, so if you can just make it to [Big City], you should, because we're going to helicopter you there anyway."  Oohhh-kay.

The contractions diminished, we went to be at like 12 30.  At 3 am Wednesday, we were awake again, thinking this was it.  The Wife took a shower (one of the things they said could reduce the pain).  Contractions continued, but the wife said "Just go back to sleep, I'll wake you if we need to go."  At 4 30, we re-awoke..dressed the kid, and drove the hour and a half to the big city hospital.  

Only after an hour in the car, the contractions stopped....great.  Instead we went to my parent's house in Big City, arriving at 6 am, woke up my dad, and Wife went to bed, Son went to sleep on Grandpa's chest, and I (hyped up on caffeine that I used to actually get there) couldn't sleep.  When the OB's office woke up (opened), the wife called.  They said:

"Take Tylenol and [something else, can't remember] and see if you can sleep through the contractions.  If you can't, come in."  

So from around 9 in the morning until around around 7 o'clock that night, the drugs worked.  At around 7 30, I'm looking at the boy running around Grandpa's basement (grandma was out of town helping my sister with her 2-week old).  I think to myself: "Kiddo, I'm about to grab you and take you to bed, because daddy's tired."  

At about that time Mom comes out of the bedroom and says:  :"Yeah, it's time.  We're going to the hospital now."

Adrenaline is a wonderful thing.  As it turns out, adrenaline can keep you going for a about 2.5 hours before total exhaustion kicks back in.  

And when it kicked in, it kicked in hard.  

(To be continued...)