Waiting for a baby to arrive is like ordering a much anticipated item and then being told the item is stuck in transit or in customs. No one knows when it'll arrive and everyone gives you vague reassurances about when you'll receive it.
After a nightmarish second pregnancy where I spent 8 months hugging the toilet, peeing all times of the night and feeling weepy, I was well and truly over it when I finally reached 9 months.
I decided to keep a diary of all pregnancy related shenanigans so that I could reflect on whether I was being unreasonable (according to hubby) by feeling annoyed with everyone who dared to comment.
Day 1 - my due date
So hubby is wondering when exactly to take time off work. He's told everyone in the office the baby is due mid June (two weeks before my actual date). Every morning, he's met with puzzled looks from co-workers on why he's rocked up to work.
He says it's embarrassing that bub hasn't arrived and, by the way, am I feeling any labour pains? On my way to the toilet for the hundredth time, I shoot him a dirty look and say nastily, "Well you shouldn't have given everyone the wrong date, that's silly."
Later, at my checkup, I stifle a groan when the doctor says the baby is head down but not engaged. She offers me a cervical stretch and sweep which I politely decline- my vagina, my rules! I'm not keen on the procedure especially after she prods my tummy hard and makes me gasp with pain. I'm not letting her anywhere near my cervix with that type of bedside manner!
I lumber off to the toilet and drive home with my huge tummy. The eternal optimist that I am, I'd taken my hospital bag along hoping I'd have silent dilation. No luck!
Day 2
I receive a flurry of Whatsapp messages from family asking if bub has arrived in the middle of the night. Nope, nothing yet sorry I tell everyone, wondering if I should just post it on Facebook. I go to my local cafe after my compulsory 3km walk (hubby's orders) and order a pasta for lunch. I figure I might as well enjoy the quiet and carbs while it lasts.
Day 3 and 4
Hubby announces that work has asked him to please "just stay home with your wife." So to make himself useful and productive, he decides that bringing on my labour is his "project". He sits on his computer all weekend and compiles a list of non-medical methods to induce labour.
After hearing his thoughts on what "things" definitely work, I have to stifle an urge to scream. But I'm busy eating the pineapple he's feeding me frequently saying "it will help dilation".
Sighing internally, I can't believe I'm actually listening to him. Plus I feel resentful later that I suffer from indigestion after eating all that pineapple while he sleeps peacefully.
Day 5
We start the morning with hubby asking if "anything is happening". Also according to him, I really need to walk, it'll help the baby engage, he says.
I wish he's back at work. His tips and my lack of contractions are stressing me out. Another day, another list of Whatsapp messages and advice to reply to. Gah!
I have an appointment scheduled at the hospital for a cervical stretch and sweep. This time I resign myself to doing it.
Hurrah! The cute doctor I've been seeing at the hospital but who's never checked me before calls my name. At 5 days past my due date, I'll take any silver lining!
I lie down on the examining table after much maneuvering and squeeze the nice midwife's hand during the sweep - credit to her she doesn't even wince once. The stretch and sweep - not so nice.
Dilation = 0cm me = very irritated and sore.
Day 6
Ok, so the stretch and sweep didn't produce any contractions. With 10kg of weight gain and the soreness, it's harder to get up while sitting or lying down. When hubby brings me more pineapple and a cup of raspberry leaf tea, I resist the urge to throw both things in the bin. Instead, I bite his head off for suggesting I should go for a long walk to "get things moving".
I give him my haughtiest look and tell him he can give his opinion/suggestion when he has a uterus of his own. He counters my barb with "sue me because I don't have a uterus". I sulkily eat my tin of pineapple and plot various forms of revenge.
Day 7
Still here, no sign of the baby anywhere. Meanwhile friends and family are becoming increasingly impatient calling and texting to ask when bub plans to come. Hey if I knew I'd tell you - my biggest concern at the moment is getting a good night's sleep without having my bladder squeezed during the night. I switch off my phone cursing at the 50 messages blinking furiously at me.
Finally it happens…
I have my second cervical stretch the following week, 9 days and counting past my due date and by now I'm handling it like a pro - all cool as a cucumber. Plus doctor says I'm 3cm dilated! This is the BEST piece of news I've received all month! It means things are finally happening.
My contractions start on the day of the second sweep but I still have to be induced as labour isn't progressing quickly. Bub arrives on the 11th day after only six hours of labour (another hurrah!).
As I write this, she's turning one-month-old. I'm glad she arrived safe and sound but I've sworn off pineapple for life!
*I dedicate this article to the zealous efforts of my hubby to bring on my labour. Thank you for being patient and loving all through.