This weekend was a weekend of firsts for me. Saturday morning, I finally raced in my first 5k run, which has been a goal of mine since I started getting into shape about 3 years ago. After realizing I was a bit overweight, (Ok, a LOT overweight) I started running and working out to lose what I could. After losing the weight and reaching my goal (150lbs from 220), I set my next goal to something I assumed would be easy, a 5k. Fast Forward two years, and here I am, just completing that goal. It took longer than I had hoped, and it wasn’t due to anything other than procrastination, and an untimely year long break from running. Thankfully, a couple of months ago, my mother-in-law asked if I wanted to run with her, and I quickly accepted. I’ve found its much harder to procrastinate when you have no other choice! So, after she signed us up, I began ‘training’ for the run about 4 weeks ago, and finished in just a hair over 33 minutes! (33:03 to be exact) Not bad for my first time, and not bad for less than a month worth of training.
It was an amazing experience, and one that I couldn’t have imagined would effect me as much as it did. From the start line to the finish, I was in awe the entire time. Watching 600+ people gather together for a morning run was amazing. All ages were present, from a 10 year old who was my drive to finish strong, to an older gentlemen who I promised myself I would keep pace with from the starting line. (Of which, I failed… he was a well oiled machine, I tell you!) The cheers and signs of the spectators helped set an amazing mood, and were just the drive I needed when I felt gassed halfway through the race and thought I would have to walk the second half with my head low. My wife cheered me on at the finish line, and my mother-in-law provided wonderful support prior to the race when I insisted I could stay with her since I was so out of shape, and she refused to let me, telling me I needed to do the best I could so I had something to strive for at the next race. It was an experience that I will never forget and has sunk a hook in me. Driving me towards our next race where I hope to improve upon my time and towards my next goal of completing a ‘mud race.’ (One of those that incorporate lots of obstacle’s, mud, and overall craziness)
My next ‘first’ of the weekend was our first trip to Labor and Delivery. Now that my wife is 33 weeks, I figured this would probably happen sooner or later. I had just hoped it was going to be later, rather than sooner. Saturday night, or Sunday morning rather, my wife had a very difficult time sleeping. More like, she didn’t sleep at all. Horrible heartburn caused her to get up many times throughout the night, and around 5am, finally woke me up enough to realize she was extremely uncomfortable. I asked if she was okay, and she told me about her heartburn, and just general inability to get relaxed and comfortable. I suggested a bath, and decided it was probably a good idea to go ahead and get up to help her out. She filled the tub, and laid down, and I hung out with her for about 15 minutes before she insisted I go back to bed. “I’m fine, you can go back to bed!” she said more than once, before I finally agreed, but not after making it very clear that I would have my cellphone in hand and if she needed anything, whether it was a change of clothes, a refill on her water, or whatever, she could call me. I wasn’t in the bed 2 minutes before I heard a horrible noise from upstairs where she was, and bolted up faster than I’ve ever climbed a set of stairs in my life. Unfortunately, I found my wife doubled over the toilet, not so quietly puking her guts out. I did the husband thing to do, and rubbed her back while she let it out, and finally, once she was done, she settled back down. She felt a little better as far as her heartburn and discomfort was concerned, but now she had a new problem, she was having what she thought were Braxton Hicks contractions, and they were bugging her.
After almost 3 hours of contractions, a phone call to her OB/GYN office which has a midwife on duty at all times, and contacting my mother. (Who is the office manager of said clinic) we decided it was time to go to L&D. The contractions were coming pretty quickly, and they had been going on for too long. Despite the fact that they were pretty painless, she could feel her legs tingle when they came, and she was having them twice as much as the midwife said was okay. So, we finally got ready, and set off for Labor and Delivery Sunday morning. What a great way to start Mother’s Day, right?
After we arrived, it didn’t take long for them to pinpoint the cause of her contractions; she was dehydrated from throwing up. So, about 3 hours later, a bag of fluids, some very funny moments watching the contraction monitor and trying to make my wife’s laughs register, they released us and we were free to go. We grabbed lunch on the way home, I got my wife into bed, and we spent the remainder of her first Mother’s Day relaxing and watching Dexter, our newest TV show addiction. It turned out to be quite the adventure and a nice little trial run for what is to come, on a day when celebrating motherhood was in order. Honestly, I don’t think I felt the weight of what is to come as much as I did that morning. The nervousness of not knowing if it was time, and not knowing what was going to happen next was overwhelming. All I know is that from that little taste of whats to come, we have quite the adventure ahead!