This time was no different. I was sick everyday from week 5 on. Throwing up multiple times a day until the day she was born. Being pregnant definitely takes a toll on me, mentally, physically and spiritually. I feel like a shell of myself the majority of the 9 months. But at the same time I know I am uplifted and sustained by my Father in Heaven every time I think I can't make it another day.
The weeks leading up to Everly being born I was so unbearably uncomfortable. And still throwing up multiple times a day. I was sure she would come a little early like Emmy did so by 38 weeks I was completely ready for her, everything was set up and my house was spotless (no easy feat with 3 kids and a shedding dog!). I was having false labor contractions almost daily for hours the week before which was so frustrating. It was all really starting to get to me and I had a few breakdowns just wanting it all to be over. By the time her due date came I was convinced she was never going to come and tried to resign myself to the fact that she might be a week or more overdue.
I think that did the trick because the next morning I woke up to contractions at 7 am. Still tying not to get my hopes up, I went about my morning for a few hours, cleaning and getting ready for the day. By 9 o'clock they were getting stronger than any I had felt before so I gave my midwife a heads up I might be in labor and called my Mom to come over. I bounced on a yoga ball and hoped the contractions wouldn't stall out. They were coming every two minutes but I didn't think they were lasting very long. Around 11 my Mom and I decided to walk around my cul de sac to make sure they didn't stop. We walked for a good half hour until I could barely stand they were so strong - and that's when I realized I hadn't been timing them right. I was timing them at the peak instead of the start and they had definitely been over a minute and 2 minutes apart for probably an hour. 😅 after really not being able to stand without support through one I decided to go back inside.