So now the little pregnancy ticker to the right of my blog is just taunting me with evidence of my overdue-ness. Yes, 40 weeks have come and gone and still I am almost just as pregnant as I was: 1.5 cm dilated and 75% effaced, for those of you who know what the heck this means. Now there is talk about inducing (finally!) but not until the 21st of January. While in theory I like the idea of delivering on MLK day, in practical terms waiting that long freaks me the heck out. I will be a Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade balloon by then! As it is, I can barely hold myself upright most of the time.
Thankfully, Baby Boy still seems fine and dandy, so that's a small favor, but I'm convinced he could be fine and dandy out here in the less fluid-filled world, too, if he really wanted to try it out. But nooooo, not for him, apparently. If my child really does turn out to be this stubborn in real life, I have no one to blame but myself, I suppose...and the husband...and my parents...and the in-laws...and society...yes, I am blaming any and everyone right now! Deal with it!
And this is all not for lack of trying to go into labor: raspberry tea, evening primrose tea, warm baths, walks, acupuncture, you name it, we've tried it. Well, not castor oil because my doctor expressly forbid it and I didn't want to force myself to get sick and not jumping on a trampoline, as suggested by several friends here because I could just see myself flying off with the greatest of ease and breaking a leg or something. But everything else within reason we have tried, to no avail.
And to add insult to injury? Nicole Richie just delivered her baby girl. We were due on the same day. Seriously? Seriously!!