Thursday, November 24, 2005

A word on Braxton-Hicks contractions and Christmas

If you're wondering, I'm awake because of bad heartburn and the fact that I had a nice long nap after work. At this point, my sleep schedule is a complete mess. Last night I slept for 12 hours straight and woke up exhausted. Mind you, this week is supposed to include another blood volume hike on the order of 1.5 litres, so I guess being tired makes sense.
At any rate, this week I had some Braxton-Hicks contractions. They have a special name because they are not "productive" contractions, they are trial run contractions that help prepare your muscles. Supposedly, women can start to feel these as early as the middle of the second trimester. Obviously this is not the case for me. They are best described as really mild menstrual cramps. It's that same crampy feeling. Speaking as someone who had some truly incapacitating cramps in my teenage years - my first thought was - why can't women have midol in labour (and yes, I understand why not)? Actually, it was a bit of a relief that the experience was so - well, familiar. It's almost reassuring. It's something I know all about.
As for thoughts on Christmas - as I trudged to work through the snow, I worried about all the things I have to get done before Rebecca arrives, and the scary prospect of Rebecca coming "early" before I complete my "to do" lists. I thought to myself - Christmas is a poor choice of time to have a baby (unless your name is Mary). This is followed by the equally amusing thought - next time will be different. I don't understand how can I possibly contemplate a return to this state at the moment when I am most uncomfortable, but there you have it. This weekend: prenatal massage. Tomorrow/today: meeting with my compensation officer to sort out the preliminary paperwork.

1 comment:

Elizabeth Paradis said...

I am glad that this inital experience with "the pain" left you feeling positive. It is a future prospect for which I have developed a paranoid fear ever since you got pregnant. Your foot, by the way, is hilarious. It looks like the ankle of the lady they puffed up in Harry Potter 3. Get Greg to tie you down to something. Hehehe.