Sunday, November 4, 2012

Save the Date



If you've been keeping tabs on this pregnancy, then you're well aware that this baby's due date is rapidly approaching.

In like 16 days.

And if you haven't been keeping tabs on this pregnancy, don't feel bad. I haven't either.

Part of this is the fact that this is our fourth child. I'll be the first to admit I was one of those moms who faithfully read the weekly updates in my own personal copy of What to Expect When You're Expecting during pregnancies No. 1 and 2. Not so much with No. 3. And with No. 4, I'm pretty sure my copy is sitting on the shelves of a Goodwill store somewhere.

And part of the reason I haven't been able tell you exactly how many weeks along I am is, well, I haven't been able to admit time marches on.

Apparently, it does.

I realized this last week when my OB asked whether we were going to induce or not.

Ugh.

Don't get me wrong. I'm tired of being pregnant. The heartburn. The swollen hands. The lack of sleep. The 45-pound 46-pound weight gain. But, once this little one arrives, there's no turning back. We'll have to deal with happiness, sadness, and half a dozen other emotions. Plus, it means I'll have one other person to love. And fear losing.

"What would you like me to do?" I asked.

"I'd like you to induce."

She wants to do this because I've reached "advanced maternal age." In other words, I'm old. Funny, I used to think I was old, but now I feel so incredibly young - considering the fact that I'll most likely have to wait another 50 years to see my Addie again.

I digress.

Truth be told, I probably will opt for induction.

I've done it twice before and I'll be the first to admit my reasons for doing so weren't exactly medical. Isaac and Tripp were both April babies. Do you know what it's like to be a teacher in April? Let me tell you, it's enough to make you want to induce a week early.

So I did.

But this time around I'm just not so sure.

If you know how I feel about certain dates, then you'll understand why picking one is so dang hard.

But I also know over the course of three babies I've cut my labors from 14 hours to four. And I know that we now live about an hour away from the hospital. And I also had the distinct pleasure of Scott hitting every single red light on 144th Street last Saturday. Not a good plan for a mom in labor.

So what if this baby chooses to have a mind of her own and opts to arrive on one of those bad days?

Well, then maybe that day will be a little bit better.



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