Memories of a Forced Eviction

I had an overdue baby. Sam is having one of those too.

I don’t know her, but I feel bad for her. A kid that won’t come out of the cave is annoying.

At 15 weeks I almost lost mine. My doctor was sure I’d go into spontaneous labor. I spent 4 weeks on bedrest and the kid stuck. You can imagine my dismay when, 7 days past my due date, that same baby refused to come out. She was, well, stuck.

I tried everything to bring on labor.

I did squats. I walked. I ran. I jumped up and down. At the suggestion of the midwife, I tried to visualize a flower opening up. I yelled, “Baby! Get the ¡@#$ out of there!” Someone told me I should eat spicy food. I tried it. I did, um, other things. The kid seemed to enjoy it all.

On the eighth overdue day, the midwife said, “Induce!” I realized that was probably a good idea. The baby did not think that was a good idea and still refused to budge. I wound up having a c-section. My daughter’s head was like a big, beautiful melon. My pelvis is a shrinky-dink. Unfortunate combo.

There’s no way you can get a melon through something as small and unyielding as a limestone donut. I have no regrets and she was totally worth the wait.

1 Response to “Memories of a Forced Eviction”

  1. 1 Eviction! Trackback on May 29, 2008 at 7:43 am

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May 2008



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