Finally, I have a solid answer for the question I get bombarded with daily: “When’s the baby coming?” Drumroll, please… Four days from now! It could even be sooner, but absolutely no later than that. Why? Because my doctor is inducing me. That little piece of good news is the only thing keeping me from throwing my bags in a cave and hiding out until my son decides to make his grand entrance.
This is my first (and probably only) pregnancy, and wow, it’s been quite the experience. I’ve heard tales of women who absolutely love being pregnant; heck, I’ve met one or two in the wild. But I just can’t understand that sentiment. The sheer dislike I have for this whole process is puzzling, especially when I try to rationalize it.
Nope, no morning sickness or any other type of illness here.
No record-breaking heat waves this summer.
And I’m definitely not alone in this journey. My husband, his family, my family, and our awesome friends have been nothing but supportive. Seriously, my husband is practically a saint at this point. So, that’s not the reason for my pregnancy woes.
And yes, I will absolutely adore my son once he arrives. That’s a key distinction. Do I love being pregnant? Heck no. Do I love my son, and will I continue to love him when he’s in my arms? Absolutely, yes!
Since my baby bump started showing, I’ve been inundated with unsolicited questions, advice, and the occasional horror story. But in the last few weeks, these interactions have sparked a new level of irritation that makes even a simple grocery run feel dangerous. Before I set my induction date, just hearing, “When’s your due date?” would send my mind reeling.
It felt like an eternity away. Each day, I’d make a little peace with the fact that no, today was probably not the day. And then a well-meaning stranger would throw that question at me! Why remind me of how much longer I had to go?
I’d get defensive, which made it hard to respond with a simple “August 4th.” Instead, I’d blurt out things like, “Who the heck knows?” or “Not soon enough!”—and there was that one time in the cereal aisle where I just froze, leaving the questioner awkwardly trying to figure out what just happened.
But now, in this glorious, post-induction-date world, I can cheerfully announce, “On or before July 28th!” with an actual smile! Yay! But guess what? This newfound joy is often met with surprise judgment. “Oh, you’re inducing? You probably shouldn’t do that.” Oh, really? Yes, yes I really want to!
Apparently, there’s a stigma surrounding inductions. Some people seem to think it makes me selfish or that I’m somehow neglecting my child’s well-being. (Did I mention this is all under the guidance of my doctor, who specializes in these decisions?) I knew there would be some disapproval, but I didn’t expect it to be so widespread. I mean, come on, can’t you see the grin on my face? I’m excited about this! Why throw shade on my happiness?
So here I am, just four days away from meeting my son and officially ending this pregnancy chapter. I’ve decided to retreat from public life. No work, no outings—just me at home, clinging to the calendar. Because on or before the 28th, this will all be over, and you bet I’m inducing!
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In summary, this piece covers the author’s tumultuous experience with pregnancy, her decision to induce, and the societal pressures surrounding that choice. Despite the challenges, she is looking forward to welcoming her son and embracing motherhood.