At long last, I can finally respond to the incessant question I get asked multiple times a day: “When are you having that baby?” The answer is, “Four days!” While it might happen sooner, I know for certain that it will be, at the very latest, in four days. This is all thanks to my doctor scheduling my labor induction, which has become the sole glimmer of hope keeping me from retreating to a cave until my little one arrives.
This is my first (and probably only) pregnancy, and I have to admit, I haven’t enjoyed a single moment of it. I’ve heard tales of others reveling in their pregnancy, and I’ve even met one woman who truly loved the experience. But for me? That feeling is completely foreign. My intense dislike for being pregnant is even more baffling when I attempt to rationalize it.
No, I didn’t experience severe morning sickness.
No, I didn’t endure an unprecedentedly hot summer.
No, I’m not going through this alone—my husband, our families, and friends have been incredibly supportive. My husband has even earned himself a halo for his patience and kindness. So, that’s not the reason for my disdain either.
And yes, I am fully aware that I will love my child once he arrives. It’s crucial to make that distinction: Do I enjoy being pregnant? Not at all. Do I love my son and will I continue to love him when he’s born? Absolutely.
Since my bump has become noticeable, the unsolicited questions and advice from strangers have become increasingly irritating. Recently, I’ve experienced an alarming level of anxiety in response to what should be a simple inquiry. Before scheduling my induction, even the harmless “When are you due?” was overwhelming. It felt like an eternity until my due date, and each day felt like I was negotiating peace with my own impatience. So, why would a stranger remind me of how far away that date truly was?
I’d instantly go on the defensive, making it hard for me to respond with something as simple as “August 4th.” Instead, I found myself blurting out snarky remarks like, “Who knows?” or “Not soon enough.” Once, I even just froze in the cereal aisle, leaving the poor questioner to awkwardly walk away, likely thinking either “What’s wrong with her?” or “Wow, she’s really close to her due date.”
But now, in this new era where I can announce, “On or before July 28th!” I can do so with a genuine smile! However, this happy news seems to be met with an unexpected wave of judgment: “Oh, you’re inducing? You really shouldn’t do that.” But believe me, I absolutely want to induce.
It turns out there’s a stigma around labor induction that I was unaware of. People assume it signifies selfishness or a lack of concern for my child’s well-being. (But hey, I did consult with my doctor, who is trained to handle these decisions!) While I expected some disapproval, I didn’t realize it would come from so many people. Seriously, do you see the smile on my face? I’m thrilled about this; why rain on my parade?
So here I am, just four days away from meeting my baby, and yes, I’m inducing. I’ve decided to keep a low profile—no work, no outings. I’m staying home, clinging to the calendar in anticipation. Because by or before the 28th, this journey will come to an end, and you can bet I’m going through with the induction.
For those navigating similar waters, check out this insightful post on Artificial Insemination. And for couples on a fertility journey, Make a Mom is a fantastic resource. If you’re curious about the intricacies of inducing labor, you might find this blog post helpful.
In summary, the journey of pregnancy can be fraught with unsolicited opinions and judgments, especially regarding labor induction. Despite the stigma, I proudly embrace my choice, eagerly awaiting the arrival of my son and the end of my pregnancy struggles.