38 weeks was the last day in my pregnancy with Cora that she was alive. I woke up that morning (Sunday, April 30th) to get ready for church and when I stood up I realized that I could breathe. Sure enough, looking in the mirror, she had dropped. I was excited, since it was something that was supposed to be a precursor to labor. I would be having a baby soon! I had random erratic contractions throughout the day, but nothing in a pattern or really very intense. I contemplated calling into work that evening (I worked at a gas station convenience store), but decided that standing during my shifts might help things along.
I just felt "off" all day, and didn't know what to make of it. I was having a lot of discharge, and when a friend came in (she was an off shift coworker) to visit and get a movie and candy, I mentioned to her that I wondered if my fluid was leaking. She offered to finish my shift so I could go to the hospital, and I said "No, it's probably nothing, I'll wait and see what happens in the morning."
I've never regretted any words more ever in my life. She stretched during that conversation, so hard it hurt. That's the last time I distinctly remember her movement. I think she might have moved a little after that, but that was the last time I specifically remember it.
The next morning when I woke up there was nothing at all.
I'm 38 weeks today. Allison is very active, which is comforting. But I have to admit, I'm scared to go to sleep tonight. I'm scared for what tomorrow morning will bring.
And I miss my baby girl so much it hurts.