I began gearing up over the weekend. Contractions came and went but nothing too intense or too regular. Sunday night I went for a walk trying to bring them on a bit. Monday came and went and still the same. I felt really weepy that day, just over being pregnant and upset that I had developed stretch marks just when I thought I had made it through without them. “It’s time for you to come out” I said. Yves came over that night and gave me a massage and we watched a movie with Fanny, Finding Neverland. After watching it, I suddenly felt so grateful to be pregnant, to be carrying a life inside me, to be called to be a mother. I decided to enjoy my last few days of pregnancy for soon I would miss my belly, stretch marks and all.
I began to ponder the journey of labor from the baby’s point of view and wrote a bit about that in my journal. Just as I was finishing up my entry, around midnight, I felt something squirt out of my vagina. “Oh great,” I thought, “I’ve peed on myself.” I shifted and again another squirt. I decided to go check out what had come out. I was wearing brown pants and no underwear so I couldn’t tell the color. I figured smelling it would be conclusive, but it didn’t smell like urine. I surely didn’t want it to be my water breaking, however exciting that might be. It just sort of smelled like vaginal secretions, but more watery. Then I wiped and, lo and behold, bloody show! Now that was exciting! I did a pH test on the wet part of my pants and it came back negative.