Answer: As long as it takes... And man, this is taking FOREVER!
Yesterday was another long day at home by myself with my two kids, trying hard to not move off the couch... Contractions started picking up around 3 in the afternoon. By the time the kids were in bed, I was having to breath through every one. By midnight I was crying through every one, but they weren't quite close enough to be considered "real" labor. Just more of this prodromal labor Hell. And I had a feeling that if I could just make it until the morning, they would peter out again. And they did.
After a few restless hours of sleep in my rocking chair and then bed, I woke up, welcomed back my morning sickness by greeting my toilet before anyone else, sobbed and told my husband he had to stay home and take care of me.... Then realized how much more I'm going to need him AFTER the baby comes and changed my mind.
The contractions start out as these two rough hands squeezing my sides, just behind my love handles. Enough to make me catch my breath and wait anxiously to see if they will turn into knives as they snake there way around to my front or if they will just squeeze for a minute and release. In "real" labor, every single pair of squeezing hands turns into daggers as it wraps around your belly and then the knives split down your front and tear you in half, playfully twisting and turning in your gut until they slowly release. In prodromal labor? Only every 5th contraction or so is that bad. The rest just make you breath heavy for a minute, like a too tight hug from your body building uncle.
I'm getting a lot of hugs from said fictional uncle this morning. catching my breath, waiting to see if the squeeze will turn into a stab. I know that it will happen, eventually. Soon every single contraction will be daggers instead of squeezes, so I'm off to try and nap during this "down time"
I wish I could honestly say that the fear of the impending "real" labor is somehow worse than the labor itself, but it's just not true. Anyone who tells you differently is suffering from that beautiful biological mechanism that allows us to keep having babies- amnesia.
This time, before I can be effected by the overwhelming cuteness of my new baby and my biological urge to create more of the same, I'm having my fillopian tubes cut, cauterized, removed, tied off... whatever it takes! I can't WAIT! :)
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