Moving to Colorado

David started his new job on July 16.  He traveled back and forth, home late on Friday, leaving again Sunday early afternoon.  It wasn't long before this started wearing on Nathaniel and I.  The last week of July, we went to Denver with him on a house hunting trip.  It was miserably hot, and I was still miserably sick every morning.  David had narrowed down our search the previous week, so I only had about 8 houses to look at.  It only took us two days to settle on the right house, and two more to get it bought.  It was real - we were moving, and we had a new home.

Our new home

Our house wouldn't be ready for a month, and after that it was going to take another week for the relocation company to get our furniture out there.  We had discussed Nathaniel and I staying in Illinois until everything was ready, but I missed my husband, and Nat missed his daddy.  We planned our move for August 18.  We were going to take our time and space the 1000 mile drive over three nights.

Nathaniel saying goodbye to our old house

Two days before our move, I woke up early in the morning to contractions and bleeding.  Panicked, I called Nathaniel's old babysitter to see if she could keep him for the day, and headed to the hospital.  By the time I got there I was only having sporatic contractions, and the bleeding had stopped, but I still felt like it had been too much to ignore.  I was hooked up to a contraction monitor, but it wasn't picking up anything.  They did a quick ultrasound to check on the baby, and told me everything looked fine.  I was given a lecture on not picking up Nathaniel, which is what they claimed my problem was.  I'm not sure how I was expected to accomplish that, but that was my discharge instruction, don't pick up your 16 month old son.  I still feel guilty that I didn't push for more - I knew something was off, I just didn't feel right.

David got home Friday night as usual, and Saturday we packed up, said good bye to our families, and headed out.  We spent Saturday night at our usual hotel in Bettendorf, IA, and Sunday made it to my sister's in Omaha.  I continued having contractions, but the nurse at St Mary's had told me they weren't anything to worry about until they were a minute long and 5 minutes apart.  While they sometimes hit 5 minutes apart, they were never longer than 30 seconds.  I was worried, but couldn't get the nurse's instruction out of my head, and didn't want to be told yet again that I was overreacting. 

We spent both Sunday and Monday nights in Omaha, and then Tuesday morning headed out on the last leg of the trip to Denver.  My sister tried talking me into going to the hospital before I left Omaha, but I brushed her off.  Now, I wish I had listened to her.  I was still having contractions, but they weren't long, and they weren't painful.  We made our way across Nebraska, and stopped for dinner as soon as we crossed into Colorado.  I continued to have contractions all through dinner, and starting timing them again when we got back in the truck.  Within a couple of hours, they were closer, longer, and starting to hurt.  I told David to find a hospital as soon as we got to Denver.

Our first night in our new town was spent at Lutheran Hospital in Wheat Ridge, CO.  As soon as I walked in and told them that I was 23 weeks pregnant and having contractions 4 minutes apart, I was whisked up to the high risk side of labor and delivery.  As I changed into a gown, the contractions were getting stronger and stronger, and the doctor on call soon came in to check me.  David had stayed out in the truck with a sleeping Nathaniel (by this time it was 10 pm), so I was alone when I was told that yes, I was in labor.  I was dilated and fully effaced, and the amniotic sack was bulging with each contraction. It was not a good situation.  Welcome to Colorado!