In a couple of days I will be giving birth. Supposedly I am due July 28th. Last time my daughter arrived eight days early, so as far as I am concerned, I can go into labor any moment now. Frankly, I hope today is the day. I cannot wait to meet my son; the anticipation is almost too much to handle.
A friend of mine suggested I induce since she does it every time and it works for her. I cannot bring myself to do it. I am not suggesting inducing is a bad thing. To each their own. I am even okay with the women who schedule c-sections for no reason other than not wanting to deal with labor, or wanting their babies born on a specific date.
Just as I dislike how others judge me for using epidurals and pain meds, I am sure these women are tired of hearing comments from the peanut gallery about their particular choices. I do not want to discuss their choices, or pass judgment. I simply came to a personal conclusion; I cannot induce unless there is a medical reason for it. I think of pitocin (the drug used to induce) as a resource available if natural labor is not working, or if I happen well past my due date and there is some risk for the baby. I used pitocin when delivering my daughter because for whatever reason my body no longer wanted to cooperate, and I stopped dilating after seven centimeters. So close, yet so far.
I did not go to the hospital with the idea I would induce, or have to mess around with the natural progression of labor. I simply went into labor, and then labor came to a halt mid stream. Yet I was okay with it at that point. I accept intervention when things go awry. But as for actually being the catalyst, as much as I wish I was in the delivery room right now (and trust me, the urge is almost as bad as my craving for chocolate cake), I cannot bring myself to eliminate the element of surprise and excitement that comes during that moment when you realize it is finally happening. My baby and I are ready, and it is show time!
When you have kids something very interesting happens. Everyone starts judging you. Even those people who do not have children have some type of opinion on your parenting skills. First of all, there is no such thing as parenting skills. You don’t have any. You get them as time goes on, and by the time you have mastered a task, your kid has moved on to something new that you have no clue about. Your skill is now obsolete. For those of your with multiple children, you have some skills. Some things are the same from kid to kid, but, for the most part, your kids are different, so whatever one of them taught you is non-applicable for the second and so forth.
This morning, as I drop my daughter off with my mother, she informs me that I am feeding my child too healthfully. Really? Is someone really judging me for giving my daughter too many fruits and vegetables each day? My mother’s solution? Substitute her breakfast of fresh mashed peaches with peach jam. Also, my daughter apparently needs more carbs. Get rid of her broccoli with cheese that I packed for lunch (healthy carbs), and instead give her a hot dog (because that pasty white bun must be what she needs to grow). I could not believe my ears. Every fiber of my being wanted to scream with fury! Even my unborn son started kicking violently inside of me at the mention of what is to happen to his sister. I personally take criticism from my mother a lot worse than from strangers.
Today a lady at my work asked if I was starving my baby. I am tiny. I have always been tiny. My babies are tiny. And perfectly healthy. Until my mother’s diet sets in, at which point I will have to contend with childhood obesity and possibly type two diabetes. Is it alright to ask an overweight pregnant woman if she is perhaps eating too much? Think about that for a second.
Who knows how many other people out there judge me on a daily basis. Either I am not doing something right with my pregnancy, or with my already existing kid. The peanut gallery never ceases to exist, and comment. I am a parent. I will be judged. To someone out there at some point, I am a bad mommy.