The Night my Waters Broke...

Getting into bed heavily pregnant is never the easiest task, but this night it was even more difficult somehow. Stress seemed to spiral up my spine, paralysing my breath.

Four weeks on, from probably the worst thing I could’ve imagined happening. I was starting to feel a little better. But not today. Today was filled with floods of tears that I didn’t seem to be able to stop from flowing.

I clutched tightly to my phone, on which I was messaging my mother. She’d already cooked tea and dropped me home, but there she was, still willing to talk if it made me happy.

After saying goodnight and switching on my rain app, something I can’t sleep without, I turned over to go to sleep.

Upon turning a thought crossed my mind. “Your waters breaking must be such a relieving feeling” I wondered.

My belly had felt tight today, as if it could burst and my legs were so stiff that rolling onto my side took longer than I’d like to admit.

Just as I’d reached the most comfortable position I could find, I felt the most bizarre click in my lower abdomen. Any unusual sensation in your stomach, whilst pregnant, is enough to cause alarm. So immediately, I shot upright and as I did I felt a gush of something warm trickle down my leg. Oh no, had I really just manifested something I wasn’t quite ready for?

Just as I had imagined I felt a huge sigh of relief, as all the pressure in my stomach began to subside. Without even a question of a doubt I knew that my waters had broken.

Of course my first instinct was to call my mother, who surely couldn’t have fallen asleep since the last time we spoke, not even two minutes ago.

Getting hold of her was more complicated than normal this night as she’d accidentally left her phone at my house. Calling her on Facebook messenger, for her to answer on her iPad, was never going to be the most reliable thing to do in case of emergency. But, since I was only 36 weeks pregnant the idea that anything might happen, on the one night she was more unreachable, seemed almost hilarious to us a few moments before.

After what felt like serval minutes of trying to get through to her, with no success. The excitement that fluttered in belly had grown to a point were I couldn’t sit still any longer.

My waters were still going and it was probably about time I’d cleared myself up anyway. So I hobbled, as fast as I could, to the bathroom. Where I sat for a moment and took a step back.

My legs were trembling and my heart was racing but I didn’t feel sad anymore. Already months of stress had lifted in an instant moment. “She’s coming” I thought. Little did I know it would be well over a day before I met my wonderful Willow.

Ready to get on with getting everything ready for her arrival I jolted up from the toilet, surely my waters had stopped by now. I’d heard that they can continually trickle but I never imagined that they’d continually gush. Looking down into the toilet I saw red. Up until this moment it hadn’t really occurred to me just how early things were. Although only by a week, coming at 36 weeks gestation would make Willow premature and I didn’t know what this might mean for her health.

I instantly ran, or waddled trying to keep my legs together to refrain from ruining my lovely carpet, to my open suitcase that sat waiting patiently on my living room floor.

I grabbed my maternity notes and ran (okay waddled) back to the toilet. Where I hastily dialled the numbers on the yellow book.

After being told I must make my way to the hospital as soon as possible, I put down the phone. Only to pick it up again, in hopes that by now maybe my mother had woken. But much to my dismay each time I called I reached her answer phone. My heart sank a little lower each time.

Pulling myself together and telling myself “your on your own now, you’re able to this by yourself”. I calmed down and dialled the next person I knew I could rely on.

As the rings grew closer to voicemail and my nan still hadn’t answered, my heart started to flutter even faster. Until finally I heard her tired voice at the end of the line. I felt like a weight had lifted off my shoulders, as the words “my waters have broken” slipped out of my mouth. It felt so good to finally confide in another person. I almost wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but something inside me told me to keep it quiet as I was still so terrified that something might go wrong.

Along with my Grandad, my nan set off to my mothers house to wake her up. Which from what I’ve heard wasn’t the easiest task. How someone can fall into such a deep sleep so fast I will never know.

My nan’s voice was lifted with a tone I hadn’t quite heard before. She was excited, and this made me feel immediately better. But as I put the phone down, I found myself alone again. Silence filled the darkened room and for a moment I felt a little down.

This wasn’t quite how I’d imagined this moment would go. I’d pictured myself relaxing in a warm bath with my other half assuring me everything would be okay. But alone I stood in an empty, cold house.

Determined not to let anything ruin, what should be an amazing moment. I stood up little straighter. “We’re going to be just fine Willow, I promise.”

The nesting instinct had been strong over the last few days and I often had found myself in a panic that nothing was going to be ready on time. No one would take me seriously, insisting that I had a few more weeks to get everything done. Quite bitterly I looked down to my unpacked case. Luckily for me, “unpacked” meant I had almost every essential, just not everything I’d hoped to bring.

I felt like time was ticking away so I darted to and from the toilet flinging all the extra things I needed into my case as I went.

Twenty minutes had passed and I still hadn’t heard from anyone. By now my case had been packed and unpacked twice and I’d already soaked through three pairs of jeans.

I called my mum and this time, to my joy she answered. “I’m just having a shower before we leave” she said. Typical mum always has to have a shower before going absolutely anywhere. That’s okay, I was fine on my own I thought. I was so determined not to show even an inch of sadness to anyone.

Staying positive and unable to sit still once more I decided that I must carry my huge, bulging case down my steep stairs. “I don’t need a man”, I thought to myself as I struggled down each step. “I can do this all on my own” (A mentality I’d learnt from my mum).

After neatly lining my case, Willows bag and car seat by the front door, I returned upstairs to finally sit down. Just as I was headed to my sofa, at last I heard the door unlock.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “This might be the last time I’m alone before she comes”, I thought. Fighting back my wobbly legs and nervous flutters, I pulled myself together one last time. “I can do this” I muttered. And I headed downstairs ready to take on whatever I might face next...