After a week and a half of a lot of nothing, no contractions or signs of labor, I decided to have a "me" day. I had the whole afternoon planned out. I would go get a foot massage, grab a quick milk tea, stop by the store, and then pick up Emily on the way home. And I'll be honest. I'll admit it. I had ulterior motives. I had heard a rumor that foot massages could induce labor so I figured, why not? If anything, I'd at least get a nice relaxing massage out of it. So I headed to my appointment, hope in my heart and tension in my feet.
Once I got there, I was greeted by the sweetest little lady. She was like an Asian version of Betty White and seriously, as nice as could be. Anyway, she greeted me and led me to what I'd like to call, "the 'please Lord, let this baby come' room." So she gave me the best damn foot massage of my life, and I walked out feeling super refreshed. As I got in my car and drove to Target, magic happened. I started having my very first contractions, at least the first ones I could feel. I pulled into the Target parking lot and walked around the store to see if they would go away. The pain was so good y'all. My excitement was really building up at this point and after an hour of consistent contractions, I decided to go pick up Emily and head home before they got worse. But then the pain was not so good. The pain was PAINFUL, and I had to park in a random neighborhood so I could kneel over and cry. I called Kyle, tears streaming down my face.
