I hope everyone enjoyed their Labor Day, or as I call it “the last day of noise”. My son the following day an hour before his bus even came, was dressed and ready to start the fourth grade. He’s completely different yet to be born little brother, who seemed to not have gotten the memo that he was due almost 2 weeks ago now. I opted to skip writing the blog on Labor Day so I could focus on one last day with the little man before he went off to school and I was left without his running commentary on life. You never really appreciate the constant chatter until you don’t have it. Also, there is a blog for Friday already written up and will be about an incident with a man lecturing me about my pregnancy.
My due date came and went, and still nothing. Still dilated the same amount, no change. Nothing. Finally after two days of tests and no relief in sight for my misery, the little stubborn house guest is still very healthy. It’s a comfort to hear that your child is healthy, but you couldn’t help but to hope that there was a minor problem or concern that would convince the doctor’s to rush me to the hospital and induce me on the spot. Not this little guy, he’s too perfect and healthy. The midwife, in her perky little demeanor raved on how amazing he is. She failed to mention stubborn in her comments on the baby.
Disheartened, I asked when I should schedule my next check up. At some point you cross the point of happiness of being pregnant to exhausted with it. I hit exhaustion with it weeks ago, I’m onto the “miserable and frustrated” stage now. Then I got at least my first bit of good news of the month: “I think we should talk about induction”. I’m not sure how many people get comforted by that sentence, but I wanted to hug this woman in front of me and tell her I loved her. She proceeded to say “when’s a good time for you? Any preference.” I responded with “a good time was 2 weeks ago, but I’ll stick with as soon as you possibly can.” And there it was, instructions in my hand for next Monday on my admission to the hospital and induction.
I’m pretty sure no one goes into a pregnancy saying “I can’t wait until I’m induced”. Induction doesn’t scare me, the idea of a c-section does. In fact, the actual c-section doesn’t scare me, it’s the being awake for it. At some point, I just hit a moment of not caring. Whatever gets the baby out of my body and into my arms is my focus now. I can’t say I’ll complain if he decides to come before then, that would be a fantastic thing. I’m mentally prepared for whatever is going to happen though, I think the mistake is to deny it. Acceptance is key in most things, especially when it means you have to give up control and anything you had planned. Our health, the baby’s and mine, is far more important than how and when he gets here. He’ll be worth the wait.