It goes without saying that my google searches have lead me to research on natural labor induction. I want this baby out. And not because my body is throbbing and I’m tired of carrying the extra load (even though this is true)… The pregnancy pains pale in comparison to my fear of a repeat of what happened the first time around: induction, constant monitoring, pitocin, delivering on the operating room table, etc. I fear that the later this pregnancy goes, the more jeopardized my birth plan becomes. Remember I chose a home birth based on the fact that I truly feel it’s what’s safest for me and for my baby. While many misconstrue my decision to be emotional, rest assured that there is plenty of scientific research to back up my decision. With that said, I’ve put a lot of love and care and forethought into my decision and the later I get in pregnancy, the more I see my control over the situation diminishing. I digress.
Inducing labor naturally (isn’t that an oxymoron?) at home is a funny thing. All the sites seem to say the same thing: acupuncture, acupressure, pineapple, evening primrose oil, homeopathics, sex, walking, castor oil, spicy food. But there seems to be an asterix attached to each method that states: These methods will only work if your baby is ready to come out. Let me translate this asterix in more plain English: “Listen you crazy pregnant lady, I know you want your baby to come out. You can try A, B, and C, and even E, F, AND G if it makes you feel better and helps fill your days of waiting. Labor will still happen, however, whenever the f*#$@ it feels like happening. Try this natural induction method instead: WAIT”.
And yet I can’t stop eating pineapple after pineapple in hopes of a puddle of amniotic fluid magically appearing at my feet. I went to get a refill on the homeopathic medicine I’ve been taking. I instructed the homeopathoIogist that I’m now at my due date and need the stronger dose. She gave me the instructions regarding dose and frequency and then said something all too familiar, “If it doesn’t work, then your baby just isn’t ready to come and you can try taking the same dose at the same intervals the next day”. My wheels started spinning, I paid the nine bucks, and I waddled back to my car thinking, “Screw her, she used the asterix. What she is basically telling me is that I can take her shit or leave it and either way my baby will come when he damn well pleases”. I came home and bragged to Willy about my epiphany. He said, “So you didn’t buy the stuff, did you?”. And I said, “Of course I did”. I know, silly. BUT, I explained to Willy that it’s like knowing you’re going to die. You can’t just let death happen, you have to die trying. It’s much too hard to sit here and complacently wait. I have to feel proactive, like I’m working toward the baby coming out. I have to fool myself into thinking I have at least an ounce of control. It’s the only way to stay sane.
I’m confused as to whether I’m giving birth to a teenager or a dependant being because if it’s the latter, shouldn’t I be the one calling the shots? What’s that you say? I have to learn this lesson all over again and forfeit all control? Screw you, pregnancy. Screw you.