The husband: We should put our hospital bags in the car today, just in case.
Me: Good plan. Can you put one of the Harry Potter movies in your bag, please?
The husband: Which one?
The husband: Ok. I’m also going to bring Adam’s Rib.
Me: Ooo ok!
The husband: Should we bring anything else to watch?
Me: No, I think that will do it.
The husband: Do you want Modern Family?
Me: Sure, since you mention it.
The husband. ORRR…do you want me to bring the Ken Burns baseball documentary? That’s a good one.
The husband: Modern Family it is. Just thought you’d like options.
The husband: We made it through session, just like you wanted to! Now you can have the baby!
Me: Trust me, I’m trying to. That’s what the Hot Tamales are for.
The husband: Have you had any contractions today?
The husband: Did you notice that I have stopped asking you every half hour?
The husband: That’s my new tactic. I thought maybe asking too often was keeping her in there, so I stopped asking but apparently she doesn’t care. So now I’m going to start asking you all the time again.
The husband: Does she need me to give her another pep talk about getting born?
Me: I think she thinks you’re joking around when you talk to her.
The husband: Should I yell at her instead?
Me: I might take you up on that. Let’s give her until dinner time.
The little oyster isn’t due until Wednesday but I really would like to have her arrive sooner than that. To be fair, I can’t decide if I’m more excited to have her or to have feet that no longer resemble loaves of bread with toes. The swelling really is getting uncomfortable.
Based on my last o.b. appointment, we know the little oyster is moving in the right direction but there’s always the slight chance she’ll stop moving in that direction and things will stall. Fortunately, my o.b. will only let me go 1 week past the oyster’s due date before inducing–I hear a lot of doctors wait up to 10 days–so October 3 could very well be her birthday. I would struggle mentally with still being pregnant in October but I don’t think it will come to that. She’s a stubborn little thing, but I don’t think she’s cruel.
In the meantime, I’m trying to figure out the logistics of that classic labor-inducer, The Long Walk (what did you think I was going to say?). “To speed labor along, take a long walk. The movement and the gravity can assist the process,” says every website ever. This advice must be aimed at women whose feet still fit into human shoes and whose ankles still bend.
I haven’t been up for a Long Walk since about 33 weeks, and that’s not the time to encourage labor. Besides, how far is a Long Walk? I’m supposed to be resting and preparing for “physical exertion of Olympic proportions” says the Mayo Clinic. I understand the need for continued movement and good diet until the bitter end and beyond (enter grapefruit and arugula salad), but right now I pack a water bottle and a sweatband to walk to the bathroom from the couch. The thought of leashing the dog and walking down our six steps and into the great outdoors appeals about as much as being 40 weeks pregnant. Oh. Right.