Well, knowing my stupid thing with numbers, I decided to be induced on Monday night (21st) for a Tuesday the 22nd delivery. The hospital could not accommodate this whatsoever (I guess a bunch of other pregnant broads had the same plan already) so they put me down for a Sunday night (ummm TONIGHT) induction with a Monday likely delivery.
Of course I freak out. My dr. ordered an u/s for me on Friday and she's measuring about 9 lbs, which is why they want to get her out already. She doesn't think it's looking too good for a vaginal delivery because of my size (I guess I'm not the walrus I think I am). But this is my best chance for trying, and she really feels it's best to get baby out ASAP.
All weekend I've been walking around like a crazed woman. I've taken stairs two at a time. I've eaten the spiciest foods I can get my hands on. I rubbed my nipples raw (bet you didn't know that was supposed to do something). I gave her a pep talk, and at one point begged her to just come out already. I got a pedicure and had the lady massage my ankles extensively. I even resorted to (gasp) sex with my husband. Nothing. If this baby is coming, she's coming on her terms, or ugh, the hospital's terms. I really hate the lack of control I have here. I suppose this is my first wake-up call for becoming a mommy. It's time I learn to relinquish control, because I'm fairly certain it's about to go right out the window anyway.
So, the bags are packed, the house is cleaned, and tonight at 6 p.m., it looks like we're checking in to the