Why My Sanity Might Be In Question

Or this post could be titled “What Happens When Doctors Smoke Crack.” Either title works for me because it’s official, I’ve decided that my Dr smokes crack and needs to be taught a lesson.

Do you remember a few weeks ago when I wrote about how happy I was that my due date had been moved up? Do you remember when I wrote about how my baby was larger than he was supposed to be so she was talking about inducing me as many as 4 weeks early? Do you remember these events? Because I seem to remember them happening – but we were told yesterday in the Dr’s office that they never occurred. My due date was NEVER changed from it’s original position at the end of this month, and that she would never have offered to induce me that early as the hospital won’t let her.

As in, the hospital will NOT let her induce a mother before 39 weeks. Like, it’s a written rule or something in their little hospital handbooks. And since it’s a rule (in said handbook) then I must be crazy for thinking that she told me that she would induce me around the 8th of July.

Yeah, just in case you just joined in, it’s the 9th of July and I’m not going to be induced any time soon.

Which is fine with me. I’ve heard some really horrendous stories about women who have to be induced and how much harder their labor is because of the artificial hormones and drugs starting the labor process. And Lord knows, I don’t want a more difficult labor – even an easy labor is still LABOR. And of course, I want a healthy baby. Hands down, no questions asked Jax’s health comes first in my book, which I know is what is also first in the Dr’s book. But does she have to make me feel crazy/insane for remembering events that now have suddenly “never occurred?”

Not to mention how depressing is that? I spoke about it a little bit last week, how sad it is to hear that you have less time, and then maybe she’s taking that less time back. There’s no maybe about it now, she’s definitely taking that time that she gave me back. And she’s doing that because A – the hospital has that pesky little rule and B – because my cervix is “unfavorable for delivery” at the moment.

Yep. Words that every woman who’s entering week 37 want to hear. NOT! Especially after the long weekend and the hours and hours of contractions that I was having. Or possibly not having, as it turns out. They were definitely all Braxton Hicks contractions as is evidenced by the lack of progress “down there.” Here’s the official ruling about where I stand right now – I’m almost completely softened, but not at all effaced or dilated in any way, shape, form or fashion. Le sigh.

Oh well. They say that childbirth is not an exact science, and truer words could not apply at the moment. Jax will come when he’s good and ready, whether that’s in three more weeks (as originally planned) or sometime sooner. Maybe I’m being given a lesson on patience? Possibly. Either way, I got a lesson on biting my tongue yesterday, and holding my temper since I didn’t go off on the Dr or harm her in any way. I really DO like her – for the most part. You know, except for when she’s telling me that I’m delusional.