Well, today is my due date.
Still no baby. I’m officially
joining JD in his impatience.
I know I can’t really complain that she didn’t come by my
due date. I know that going a week or so
past your due date is still “normal.”
People keep telling me, “Just enjoy these last few days where it’s just
you and JD and you can sleep soundly, because your life is about to change so
much!” I totally get that. Once I’m “on the other side,” I’m sure I will
give the same advice to expectant mothers, but when you’re in those final weeks,
when your every thought revolves around your baby, when you can’t focus on
anything else like work, and when your discomfort is at a level where it hurts
to sit, walk, AND lie down, you’re thinking “screw that- a few extra days of
relaxing won’t make a difference in the grand scheme of things- get this belly hijacker
out of me now!” (I’m also finally dealing with a bit of swelling, a condition I
like to call “sausage foot.”)
It doesn’t help that the doctor scheduled an induction on
the 7th if I don’t go into labor before then on my own. It feels like a looming deadline- a threat in
a way. “If you can’t do this on your
own, we’re doing it for you.”
I understand they can’t let me carry this baby around
forever. Once you reach a certain point
past your due date, the risk to mom and baby starts to grow. And in a way, it’s nice to have a definitive
end point. But I really, really want to
avoid an induction. I don’t want them
pumping me full of drugs, trying to force a baby out who didn’t seem to be
ready to come out on her own. Plus, it
seems that a lot of inductions (not all) result in a really long labor where
they do a C-section in the end anyway.
I told myself that I wouldn’t be psycho pregger with the
super specific birth plan. I didn’t want
to be the woman that freaks out when it doesn’t work out the way that she wanted
it to. I’m trying to remind myself of
that, because my main objective (obviously) is to have a healthy baby. Modern medicine is designed to keep me and
the baby safe. If I have to be induced,
so be it.
Plus, there’s still a week for me to go into labor on my own. Judging from how slowly this past week has
gone, a week is really an eternity, and gives her plenty of time to decide she’s
ready.
On the bright side, I have an increased appreciation for the
Friends episode “The One Where Rachel Is Late,” which had me laughing out loud
the other night. This compilation covers
all the best parts. A bit long, but
totally worth it. Highlights include
Ross telling Rachel he wishes he was a seahorse, and the parts where Rachel
tries to bend over to pick up the fork and when she comes out of the bathroom
and stops to wonder aloud if she needs to pee again (I can relate to both of
these moments).
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