Last night I had some maternity photos taken by a generous and talented neighbor. The air was grey, the wind was blowing, and through the course of the stormy evening I was developing stronger and stronger contractions. The night felt magical, as though I were about to embark upon my final labour journey.
I went to bed, convinced I wouldn’t be able to sleep, or at the very least if I did happen to rest I would be roused by the breaking of my water or some intensifying contractions that would confirm the time had come.
Alas, the only thing that woke me up in the night was the usual need to pee every couple of hours and the contractions totally disappeared by morning.
I wish there were a light on a pregnant woman’s belly that shone red when labour symptoms were false and headed nowhere, and turned green when birth was actually nearing the horizon.
Tired, grumpy, and bloatedly yours,