I’ve finally found the answer to the question I face countless times a day: “When are you having that baby?” The response? Just four days from now! It could happen sooner, but definitely not later than that. Why? Because that’s the day my doctor is inducing me, and it’s the only thing keeping me from retreating to a cave until my little one arrives.
This is my first (and probably only) pregnancy, and let me tell you, I haven’t enjoyed it one bit. I know some people cherish the experience; I’ve even met a woman who adored it. But honestly, I can’t fathom that sentiment. My strong dislike for being pregnant becomes even more perplexing when I try to rationalize it.
No, I didn’t suffer from morning sickness.
No, it hasn’t been an unbearably hot summer.
No, I’m not alone in this; my husband, our families, and friends have all been incredibly supportive. My husband, especially, is practically a saint. So, that’s not why I’ve loathed this experience.
And yes, I know I will love my baby when he arrives. That’s a critical distinction. Do I enjoy being pregnant? Absolutely not. Do I love my son and will my love continue once he’s born? Yes, without a doubt. That’s paramount to understand.
Ever since I’ve started showing, the uninvited questions, unsolicited advice, and horror stories have been irritating. But in the last few weeks, they’ve escalated to a level of frustration that turns a simple grocery run into a battlefield. Before I scheduled my induction, the innocent “When is your due date?” would send my mind spiraling.
It felt so far away, impossibly distant. Each day, I tried to come to terms with the reality that it probably wouldn’t be today, just to get out of bed. But then some stranger would hit me with that question! Why would they want to remind me how much longer I have to wait?
I’d become defensive, causing me to blurt out inappropriate responses like “Who the heck knows?” or “Not soon enough.” Once, in the cereal aisle, I just froze in silence, leaving the poor person to awkwardly walk away, perhaps thinking, “What was that about?” or “Doesn’t she know she’s nine months pregnant?”
Now, however, in this bright, post-induction world, I can cheerfully say, “By or before July 28th!” And I genuinely smile while saying it! But this happy news is often met with unexpected judgment. “Oh, you’re inducing? You shouldn’t do that.” Yes, I absolutely want to induce!
It turns out there’s a stigma surrounding induction that I was unaware of. People seem to think it implies I’m selfish or that I don’t care about my child’s well-being. (Did I mention this decision was made with my doctor, who specializes in this?) Such judgments don’t entirely catch me off guard. After carrying a human for almost a year, I’ve learned that people have endless opinions about how things should be done, and they feel compelled to share them. So, while I expected some disapproval, I didn’t anticipate that most people would react negatively. Hello, folks—do you see my smile? Clearly, I’m happy about this; why rain on my parade?
Now, here I am, just four days away from meeting my son, the day I’ll finally stop being pregnant, and yes, the day I’m inducing. I’ve decided to limit my outings. I’m staying home and clinging to my calendar because on or before the 28th, this will all be over, and you better believe I’m inducing!
For more insights on home insemination, check out this article from our other blog. If you’re curious about pregnancy resources, Science Daily offers excellent information. Also, for some festive ideas, visit this site, which is a great authority on the topic.
In summary, while pregnancy may not be my favorite experience, I’m eagerly anticipating the arrival of my son. The decision to induce, though met with criticism, has brought me a sense of relief.