Last night, we all gathered (with Justin and Chrissy) at the Jensen house for our usual Sunday night scones. While there, my contractions started picking up both in pace and in strength. By 11pm, they were coming anywhere between 3 and 8 minutes apart.
After blowing up the pool, we decided to all try and get some rest while we still could. By 2am, contractions were exactly 10 minutes apart and strong enough to need coaching and support. Poor Dan tried his best to help me, but fell asleep a few times when I needed him. By 4am, I was passing out between contractions, too. It was a terrible feeling to wake up surprised by the pain of my contracting uterus. At times, I felt frustrated that it wasn't picking up. At other moments, I just wanted it to die down so I could sleep for longer than 7 minutes at a time.
It's morning now and I plan on walking a bit. Elijah is awake and happy, playing in the sand box. He spent some time with me in bed this morning, "helping" dada coach me through my "pains". He knows it's necessary for me to hurt in order for the baby to come out. I think he's excited.
I'm not sure what today holds, but I am sure that the same God who created the universe will be able to sustain me and give me the strength to endure whatever lies ahead.
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