My husband was watching TV when I plopped in front of him and asked for a shoulder massage. Taking pity on his 4 days overdue wife, he got right to work.
I didn’t even have time to relax before I felt it.
I awkwardly excused myself and waddled to the bathroom, briefly entertaining the idea that perhaps I had peed myself. Except every couple of shuffles there was another gush. My water had definitely broken.
I changed my pants, donned a massive pad, and made my way back to my unsuspecting husband. I said, I think, maybe, my water broke. Despite willing this labor to start for the past week my husband looked absolutely shocked now that it had. Honestly, I kind of was too.
I walked 4 miles earlier that day and by the end the weak contractions that I’d been having on and off all week had fizzled out completely. I even told my family for the hundredth time that nothing was happening, another day with no sign of baby. Then after like 30 minutes I texted to say that my water broke!
With no consistent contractions yet I thought it might not be a bad idea to get some sleep. I cuddled up to Rowan. He slept so peacefully, oblivious to how much his life was about to change. Eventually, I gave up on the idea of sleeping and watched 1 Million Dance Studio videos instead.