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).