I'm over due..... or he, is over due. However you want to look at it there was a fantastic date on the calendar in which my child was considered "done" in the oven, and the date is past! This comes as no surprise to anyone who had bothered to track a pregnancy of mine. But for some reason has once again caught me off guard. Then again I am the sucker that is still surprised that tv shows cut to the commercials right before they announce the winner! I am leaning into the screen poised with childlike anticipation and BAM they cut to a talking dog sitting at a desk. Mr. LbF gets way to much enjoyment out of this.
Larry our first born was 4 days past her due date. A respectable and understandable amount of time. Curly started off in true Curly form and at 13 days past we had to pry her out with a crow bar. Later I asked why she did not wish to join the breathing world she said she had been busy watching Sponge Bob and drinking a juice box. I was relieved to hear I get good reception up there. Moe surprised us with a grand entrance, past due on day 11. I joined the only 4% of women that get to experience a little pop followed by waterworks that can't be stopped not matter how many kegels you pride yourself at being able to do.
At this point my dear son is keeping in tradition with his sisters and making us all wait to see how much he looks like his handsome Dad.
What still fascinates me is the attention that is paid to a pregnant lady when the world around her knows she is near the end of making a person. If you have ever used your uterus you know that for some reason you automatically become public property! Strangers jump right over any lines of common decency that usually apply and ask you the most personal of questions.
Stranger "How much weight have you gained?"
My response "Enough"
Stranger "Have you had problems with leaking when you laugh?"
My response: "Yes, watch your toes"
Stranger: "Did it take you long to conceive?"
My response: "You asking minutes or months?"
Stranger:: "Is this your first?"
My response: "Fourth"
Stranger response: "Wow, are you Mormon?"
And then the question of when am I due.. If I were a smarter person or at least not so jacked up on hormones, I would lie at this point...... the response you get when you tell someone you're way past due seem to go something like this:
Stranger: "Oh man"
At this point they take a quick glance at my belly sizing me up and turn their head slightly to the right, which I can only assume means I did not pass. This is followed by a step backwards or to the side which I assume means they are beginning to fear for their safety. After all pregnant ladies are cute, over pregnant ladies are scary. The most bizarre of experiences came from a stranger when I was over due with Moe. In front of the daycare I was dropping Curly off, this women called across the parking lot and offered to fight me to get the baby out... To this day I am puzzled why on earth she would even suggest this to me and also why on earth I did not go beat the crap out of her...
Now to the part about what to "do" about being over "due". There are no shortage of suggestions when it comes to this. But keep in mind that I am about going at this in an "all natural" fashion.
Hospital induction rocked my world when evicting Curly and therefore is off the table.
I have done what anyone would in my situation. I asked my "friends" on FaceBook! But because I am a multi-tasker I decided to try any two of the suggestions at one time. Matching up, what to do with what, became the challenge.
Consuming caster oil seemed to stand out as the big controversy! Some folks swear by it and others had the same response I did when I tried it with my first pregnancy... I managed to have 2 good contractions and spent the rest of the evening sitting on the white throne! Plus even thinking about multi-tasking with this one painted some not so nice pictures. Sure drink a laxative and then go for a jog... or drink it and bounce while walking a long way with one foot on the curb and one foot off. A few of the ideas I could picture happening, like eating crab while Mr. LbF rubs my feet, but as soon as you throw in a breast pump it seems to get a little weird.
My favorite suggestion of course has to do with what got me into this in the first place, after all, I'm told what gets them in, gets them out!