It's hard to believe that 39 weeks ago, my water broke a few hours before I was scheduled to go in for a cesarean. I wasn't sure if my water broke, because it was a gradual thing. However, Miss Lucy knew something was wrong. She got upset and had to be taken outside for a bout of diarrhea. Then she stuck like glue to me in bed, while I took a shower and shaved my legs, put on my makeup, and fixed my hair a little. Yes, I was in denial. It wasn't supposed to happen that way.
Nothing in our plan really changed, except B got to watch my contractions come and go until I went in to surgery with the joy of an engineer. I was not impressed. All in all though, the end result was worth all 39 weeks of nausea, back pain, swollen ankles, and eventual waddling.