After we returned from Young Life camp, I planned to hunker down at home and wait out my final weeks of pregnancy. I am trying to get a draft of my dissertation done before I go into labor and week 39 seemed like the perfect time to type up those last ten remaining pages.
But then on Thursday morning {the day after we returned from camp}, Micah called to tell me he might drive to Orange County that evening for a work event the following morning. I didn’t love the idea of him driving all the way to California by himself at night and then driving back the very next day and suddenly I found myself suggesting, “What if I just went with you?”
Up until this point, all my travels were perfectly reasonable to me. Going to San Diego at 37 weeks was no big deal to a woman whose first baby was nine days past due and who was showing ZERO labor signs. And going camping and up to YL camp also seemed safe, since I was just a couple hours from Phoenix in the unlikely chance that labor happened early.
But this… a super last minute trip to California at 39 weeks… this was pushing it a bit. However, the idea of leaving Zianne with my parents and going on a quick little getaway with my husband sounded appealing even if it wasn’t medically advisable. Micah likes to joke that we’ve been on five “babymoons” this past month, but I remind him that it’s not really a babymoon when you take your toddler with you. So later that evening I found myself in the car with Micah cruising through the desert to the west coast. We stayed in a hotel that night so Micah could be close to the office. Friday was a work day for both of us. Micah had a meeting and then worked remotely for the rest of the day, and I tackled my dissertation for a couple hours at a neighborhood coffee shop. However, we got to eat a fun lunch together and as soon as it hit five o’clock we headed to Huntington Beach. Micah surfed for an hour and I laid on the beach with my big ol’ belly and a book. It was relaxing and perfect.
When were done with the ocean we headed inland to stay with my college roommate and her family for the night. The trip had gone perfectly thus far, and I was thrilled we would be getting to Stacey’s by 7:30 for lots of hangout time…
And then we hit some LA traffic and I learned that roadway congestion gives me contractions. I’ve honestly been a little jumpy in the car ever since my accident this winter and all of a sudden I felt my stomach begin to tighten as we were caught in the midst of brake lights on the freeway. I told Micah to exit as soon as possible. I couldn’t figure out if it was just Braxton Hicks or real contractions. Maybe my stomach was just upset from eating out all day and sneaking in two coffees? But I also know that an upset stomach can be a sign of labor, so I was frantically googling labor symptoms on my phone as we exited the freeway. We pulled into a Walgreen’s parking lot and I was the giant pregnant lady running into the store toward the bathroom. The cashier saw me and alerted a clerk to unlock the bathroom door like it was some sort of medical emergency. I’m sure she was picturing labor and delivery happening in the stockroom. I texted Micah from the bathroom and asked him to bring in my suitcase. I was still wearing my swimsuit from the beach and I wanted to change into something more comfortable, but he thought my water had broken. He knocked on the door a few minutes later looking concerned {but also eating a Reese’s he had somehow found time to purchase since being in the store}. I quickly informed him I was simply changing my clothes for comfort and was probably not going into labor.
We debated driving all the way home that night just as a precaution, but my worst fear would be to give birth in the desert a hundred miles away from any medical facility. If you’ve never driven from L.A. to Phoenix I will describe it in one word… desolate. The largest towns once you get past Palm Springs are “Quartzite” and “Blythe.” I don’t even know if there is any type of hospital on the route. Half the time my phone doesn’t even work in the middle of the drive. Instead, we decided to stop at Olive Garden and eat some bread and soup… something easy on my stomach… since we would be missing dinner at Stacey’s house anyway. We showed up at our friends’ house MUCH later than anticipated, but by that point I was feeling better and was even able to nibble on a strawberry donut for dessert since it was #nationaldonutday after all…
By the next morning I was feeling great again. Stacey and I got to catch up some more and visit one of our favorite coffee shops before Micah and I started the drive to AZ. We made it back quickly and reunited with Zianne at my parents’ house. Babymoon of babymoons, y’all.
I successfully went to California at 39 weeks pregnant and I officially think I’m a little bit crazy…
I don't know if I'm laughing because I'm crying or crying because I'm laughing *BUT* this post definitely takes the cake …. or donut. First of all, you and Micah are so blessed to live near your parents so you can decide at a moment's notice to up and leave for a genuine couples babymoon. Husband and I would have to wait three hours for his parents to get here from East Texas or 8-14 hours if my parents flew or drive to Texas from Kentucky. Sometimes I definitely feel like an island. But I think it's absolutely wonderful and awesome that you and Micah had this weekend together, not to mention the other 827 other things I love about this post, including: silhouette belly bump pictures in a hotel room; big ol' belly on the beach, Walgreens employees understanding the urgency of a pregnant lady needing the bathroom, Micah purchasing a Reese's while his very pregnant wife could have been delivering his second child from said bathroom; celebrating National Donut Day, hospitable friends, safe returns home still pregnant with the ultimate babymoon story to tell your new baby one day, and admitting you might be a little crazy. Yeah, that about sums up everything I love about this post – HA!!!!!!!