, , ,

Well, I’ve had two doses of the gel. The first time, the Induction Doctor felt me up and warned me that Babby has still not engaged AT ALL in my pelvis, and that there is a good chance he simply may not fit through. She said I should prepare myself for a probable C-section, but that she still wanted to try for a vaginal delivery, because “obstetrics is full of surprises”. She also mentioned (and I had not realized this) that according to our early ultrasound, the 12 week one, my due date was probably closer to Aug 26 than Aug 30th, so I could be as much as 11 days overdue.

Dose Numero Uno gave me some mild cramping, like the first day of your period, and that was about it. We went home and I dozed on the couch (shockingly enough, a night of thinking about induction followed by an early morning wake-up call did not leave me feeling rested and energized).

We went back in for 2:45pm, and waited for an hour and a half for the doctor to actually show up. This was in a different ward and the bed was flipping uncomfortable. There was only one chair, which Perfect Husband gave to my mother, while he sat at the foot of my bed and read to me from The Princess Bride for a while, then started roaming around restlessly in the ward looking for doctors to shoot dirty looks at. On one return visit, he announced that he had found out where they kept their Christmas decorations. “We may need them, at this rate,” he said.

The doctor finally showed up and said that the baby had moved downwards slightly, which was all very encouraging. She shot me up with another dose of gel and I had to stay on that damned bed for another hour.

Since we left, I have been much more uncomfortable. The cramping is more noticeable, taking up my lower back as well as my abdomen, and my legs feel a little crampy, too. No real noticeable waves of contractions or anything exciting like that, but I’m hoping that all of this discomfort is actually accomplishing something. We’re about to go in for dose # 3.

If I haven’t gone into labour/had a babby by tomorrow morning, Perfect Husband should probably go to work. He only gets six days off, and spending one of those days off waiting for me to fail at going into labour doesn’t make a lot of sense. A friend of mine will drive Mum and me in to the hospital and we can always call PH when I finally actually start labour. But hopefully something will have happened by tomorrow morning.


At the same time, I’m like, “holy crap, a baby??”

My mother thinks I’m holding in the baby with my subconscious mental powers out of fear of change.

That sounds like me, actually.