Now that I’ve been pregnant for seventeen months, I’m getting a tad anxious for this baby to be born. He weighs approximately twenty-seven pounds, my pelvis has melted into my knees, and the male elephants at the zoo are starting to eye me suggestively.
Okay, so I’m really just nine months pregnant exactly – 40 weeks by my cycle dates, and 41 weeks according to the (damn lying faulty piece of shit) ultrasound. This happens to about half of us. The other half perkily announce their deliveries at 37 weeks and 3 days, and I’m pretty sure they’re lying, but that’s a subject for another blog.
This always happens to me.
Since this is my fifth pregnancy with my fifth tardy, stubborn, spoiled and completely unappreciative fetus, I feel I’m in a good position to share my experiences on going “overdue”. Like the moron I can sometimes be, I have tried all of the old wives’ tales that didn’t work the first four times I was elephantly pregnant, and even added a few new ones because I enjoy suffering. Here’s what to do, and not do, when you’re overdue.
WHAT TO DO.
Go out to eat. I’m not a member of the Babies Ruin Your Life Club (otherwise, I wouldn’t have so many). But I’m fully aware that certain restaurants won’t be as enjoyable after baby is born. So, every day last week I took myself out for lunch somewhere nice, and will likely continue this wallet-draining habit until I deliver. Enjoy your French fusion now, because soon you’ll only be eating at places that serve your food in a bag *pretentious sobbing*.
Go see a movie. I haven’t actually done this one, but I should. People vary in their opinions regarding this topic, but I personally don’t enjoy paying 9 dollars to sit in a theater lobby nursing a baby who cries to eat every twenty minutes. So I won’t be going to the movies for a while after baby is born. I recommend going now. But you do you.
Have sex. I bet you’ve heard this will induce labor. Well, I’m here to tell you that’s a goddamn lie … But it’s fun, and you won’t be able to do it for a few weeks after Baby comes, and it’s fun. And it’s also fun. Plus, you can tell your partner that the only positions and acts that are comfortable just happen to be your favorite ones, and he really can’t argue with you on it. Enjoy.
So basically, you’re going to nice restaurants, seeing the latest movies, and having lots of sex. That’s not so terrible.
Bonus: Clean the house and put together all the baby crap. Do this now, before you don’t have arms anymore. Every time I have a baby, I’m amazed at the terrible design of the female body, which should have included extra arms. But it doesn’t, so get stuff done now.
Now… WHAT NOT TO DO.
In seeking to self-induce labor over the last week or so, I’ve tried the following methods. Wait, did I say methods? I mean lies.
Eat pineapple. I mean, sure, if you enjoy pineapple then go ahead and eat it. It’s not going to induce labor, though. I ate a whole damn pineapple one Sunday, and then discovered that the much-lauded bromelain in pineapple basically attempts to digest your tongue. Now you’re a miserable pregnant woman who can’t even talk about how miserable you are. And you know driving your family and friends crazy is the only relief you’re getting right now. Why sabotage yourself?
Walk with one foot up on the curb and one in the road. You’ll look like an idiot. An idiot who is still seventeen months pregnant.
Drink “smooth move” tea. This is basically a mild, herbal laxative tea that you can obtain at the grocery store. It’s said to induce labor, which again, is another lie. It also does not have any laxative properties. Trust me.
Put evening primrose oil on your cervix. This one was my personal favorite. I’m going to dance around this delicately, but let’s say that what goes up also goes down (and out). And this stuff has the consistency of sticky honey. So now, not only are you not in labor, but your thang might be glued shut. Call me crazy but that seems counter-productive to the end goal here. Plus, no sex can happen with all of that going on, and sex is one of the few fun things you can do.
Nipple stimulation. This is another one that you can go ahead and do, if it’s something that you just enjoy doing anyway. But you’re only going to get sore nipples and no baby. There’s also the awkwardness of finding a good hidden place in your home to sit and twiddle your nipples for thirty minutes at a time. Picture yourself stuffed into a closet, anxiously twisting your knobs and glancing at the contraction app on your phone, while a four-year-old bangs on the door yelling, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING MOMMY?” Don’t you feel like a weirdo? I feel kind of like a weirdo just typing that.
That pretty much wraps up my series of self-induction failures. I think the important thing to remember here is that this baby is going to run your life and consistently fuck with your scheduling preferences for some time, so you might as well get used to it now. Plus, some studies show that the way we date pregnancies is pretty stupid (shocker) and that “due dates” should really be viewed as more of a “due month”. I’m due in April, so I’m going to try to stop complaining, at least until May.
Stay strong, mamas! Distract yourself, eat some delicious food, have some fun… and don’t glue your lower lips together. Save that for later… it might be good birth control.
See ya in May.