Sept-Oct 2004

Great Expectations and Chinese Food

Was I really that big?

At nine months, for the first time during my pregnancy, I finally felt ready for a baby. Maybe I had just been enjoying my pregnancy too much. Strangers open doors, offer seats, smile, help out in any way they can. It was so nice getting the "princess treatment", and I really could have enjoyed that for a lot longer. Then there was the bond with the baby already growing. The warm, fuzzy feeling all those continuous kicks and rolls and hiccups give you, knowing that your baby's happy and active in there.

We were well set up by the middle of September (baby was due Oct. 4th). We had the nursery decked out with everything we needed, and probably a few things we didn't. And then right before my due date (October 2nd, to be exact) I remember telling Jed, for the first time, that I was ready. Bring it on. I had been looking forward to having this little Siacor on the outside, rather than on the inside, and to finding out if we had a baby boy or a baby girl joining our household, but the whole labour thing was a bit scary to me. However, as I said, something changed for me on October 2nd, and that was why I got Jed to order Chinese food.

He headed down to "Bamboo Bamboo" (owner with a stutter, perhaps?), and brought back a Chinese feast for two. Yum!!! That was the best damn Chinese I've ever eaten. And eat, I did. I put away more than Jed. It really was so delicious.

Now, since that Saturday night, we've ordered the same dishes, from the same restaurant, and they've been good, but they've never been as good as they were 48 hours before Kai was born. That's my version. Jed reckons the food's been about the same. So there must be some magical factor involved with pregnant women who are close to labour, and Chinese food. That's why I'd asked him to go and pick up Chinese in the first place.

A fellow marine at work told Jed about the magical labour-inducing powers of Chinese food. It had been passed on to him and his wife by another couple, and it had worked for both of their children; Mum ate Chinese; babies came... twice. I hadn't given it much credit (you hear so many stories when you're pregnant!), and I'd told Jed that I was finally ready to get on with things, so we'd better eat Chinese food, pretty-much jokingly. Just as a sign of my bravery, and a little celebration of my readiness and "bring it on" state of mind at last.

It worked. Saturday night's delicious Chinese feast was followed by Sunday morning's queasiness and cramping, and general feeling of being "a bit off-colour". We cancelled our days' plans (can't think for the life of me what we were going to do that day), and I just spent the morning on the sofa, watching TV. By noon, I was pretty sure the cramps I was getting were baby-related, and wondering if this was "real labour" (race to the hospital to have a baby) or "false labour" (race to the hospital to look like a pair of idiots).

By 2 pm I was thinking "real labour". It was getting pretty painful. By 6 pm I couldn't sit, or stand, or lie, when the cramping (by then I was starting to say "contractions") came. Walking helped, though. So I walked through each contraction, and phoned the labour ward at the hospital, who reassured me they absolutely did not want to see me unless they contractions were regular, and 2 minutes apart. 7 pm... 8 pm... 9 pm... painful contractions had me pacing our apartment every 3 - 4 minutes. Finally, at 10 pm, they sped up a bit, and were coming at 2 to 2 and a half minutes apart. So we did the big movie routine and grabbed the pre-packed overnight bag, jumped in the car, and raced to the... supermarket.

I hadn't had a drop of alcohol from the day I found out I was pregnant, and there was no way I was going to miss out on a champagne toast when we had our new babe in arms. So we stopped at the supermarket, raced in (contraction in the isle), grabbed a bottle of Moet & Chandon (yum!), paid for it (contraction at the checkout; checkout-lady concerned, then surprised, then amused, as we explained where we were going and why we needed champagne), and headed to the car, and to the hospital.

With 2-minute-apart contractions that I'd been walking through in the apartment, the car-ride was no fun. Just sitting, and not being able to stretch out or pace around, for the 50-minute drive... ah... no fun! But it went surprisingly fast, and it seemed only 15 minutes later that we arrived. Maybe Jed was driving a little faster than he let on.

Around 11 pm we checked in at the labour ward reception desk. A quick exam, and we were told that yes, I was in "real labour" (no kiddin'), and no, I couldn't be admitted yet. I'd have to pace the hospital, or go home. Now that's just not what a mother-to-be wants to hear when she's:

a) had her Chinese food

b) gone through 13 hours of contractions already

c) come to the hospital when they're 2 minutes apart, just like agreed

and d) got her bottle of Moet, all ready for the big event.

I was still 20 hours from meeting my little man face to face. If you've hung in there reading this so far, you're probably

a) a woman, and

b) thinking of having a baby.

Please check out my next post for the "main event". I feel like I've dragged this one out a bit much. It was a great experience for Jed and I, and we want to share it, and also record it for our own memory-jogging later (I do love "The Notebook"), but at the same time, not bore our friends to death.

Here's cheers to great Chinese, and Moet & Chandon.

Peta