Saturday, 5 January 2008

You Betcha Baby!

Just who do I have to sleep with to get my baby to come out, anyway? Any virile man with a plentiful supply of semen will do, apparently.

Not that I’m seriously considering a do-it-yourself labour induction – bubby will make its appearance without my resorting to Old Wives’ remedies – but during an idle search of various labour-inducing methods that you, too, gentle reader, can try at home!, I came across a rather unsavoury discussion of that oft-recommended contraction jump-starter, sex:

"Sex as means of getting labour started is thought to work in three ways: firstly the movement may help to stimulate the uterus into action; secondly, sex can trigger the release of oxytocin, the 'contraction' hormone; thirdly, semen contains a high concentration of prostaglandins which help to ripen, or soften, the neck of the womb (cervix) ready for it to dilate when labour starts.

At this stage in your pregnancy sex is easier said than done. Try spoons, with your partner entering from behind or use the bed as a prop: your bulge isn't an obstacle if you lie on your back at the side or foot of the bed with your knees bent, and your bottom and feet perched at the edge of the mattress. Your partner can either kneel or stand in front of you. Alternatively, giving your partner oral sex may work better. It is thought that prostaglandins are absorbed more efficiently through the gut than through the vagina. (Note: you may prefer to keep this piece of information to yourself.)"

Hmm. Seems to me more likely to induce vomiting than labour (although Mr. Lonie was still keen to give it a try when I mentioned it. Funny, that.)

And just why should I be ever so slightly impatient for the baby to venture out of its current home in my seemingly stretched-to-the-limit belly, when another two weeks of relaxing in its cosy amniotic sac past the due date now upon us is considered normal? Certainly not because I’m one of those women whose suitability for motherhood I question when they petulantly complain they’re ‘bored’ with pregnancy (after all, raising a child takes significantly longer and is much more trying than gestating one).

One reason is my obstetrician’s threat to medically induce labour if I have the audacity to withhold my baby from the world until next Wednesday. Been there, done that, was so unimpressed I didn’t even bother to buy the lousy t-shirt.

Another reason is that fridge-cleaning and other nasty chores which have been put off in the hopes of baby’s imminent arrival letting me off the hook, cannot be forsaken when that pesky little internal voice I try to ignore as much as possible is barking at me to get your lazy arse into gear and at least pretend to exhibit some nesting instinct, woman!

And then there’s the fact I have only minutes left to win the birthdate sweepstakes, if the little one would just cooperate.

On the upside, a delayed arrival means I still have time to get a more elaborate baby-related betting scheme up and running, one that puts “Guess how long I’ll be screaming in pain!” and “I lack opinion and imagination! Please suggest God-awful names for my child - mine and my baby’s dignity to the winner!” games to shame.

Here’s the kind of thing I was thinking of:

Scenario One: While I’m still bloodied from giving birth, my mother-in-law strides in and immediately pronounces the baby is the spitting image of Mr. Lonie. In fact, am I sure it's biologically impossible for a child to receive all its genes from the father?
Odds: Even money.

Scenario Two: My freezer, full of delicious meals I’ve spent hours and hours preparing to make life easier when the baby arrives, breaks down the day we return from hospital, leaving everything spoiled. We grow fat on takeaways every night for two months.
Odds: 20 to 1.

Scenario Three: While Mr. Lonie is overseas, my dogs wake me from my fitful baby-related-insomnia-troubled sleep at 4 am, mere hours before I have to sit an allowance-dependant exam for work. The dog bed and laundry are covered with what I can only describe as explosive diarrhoea, which takes me an hour to clean and disinfect while I desperately try to restrain light-sleeping Master Lonie from creating a coprophiliac’s idea of an artistic masterpiece. Oh hang on, I forgot. This already happened.
Odds: all bets are off.

Further suggestions are welcome. So: Any takers?


jan said...

Love that you are keeping your wonderful rapier sense of humor.

littlesnoring said...

A friend of mine ate a whole packet of mint slices to enduce labour, did the trick perfectly. Seems to me better advice than the ingesting of other rather less appetising substances...

For mine, I think you will go into labour Tuesday night for an early morning Wednesday baby...

good luck...

Lonie Polony said...

Hi Jan, thanks as always for your kind comments :-)

Hi Littlesnoring, I don't like mint slices - or is that the point? I hope you're right about delivery on Wednesday (if not before). Not looking forward to a repeat of my other induced labour...

Rita said...

Maybe just the doctors threat of inducing will do the trick? With my last child being overdue, the Dr admitted me to hospital the evening before planned induction. I awoke a few hours later and yes - she arrived with no inducing required except the threat of same!
Good luck Lonie.

Rita said...

BTW - the brilliant doctor on duty that evening was one pierced-earringed, kind and gentle Brendon Nelson. He spent the long hours of this labour, then the subsequent 38 stitches later, providing the most thoughtful of care. Given my political persuasions, and hindsight, I wish he'd stuck to what he proved himself that night to be - a wonderful doctor!

Lonie Polony said...

Oh, Brendan Nelson! I rather think I'd be mortified if he had to deliver my baby now. Better than Howard I guess... :-)

jayjay said...

Can anyone explain the guys and oral sex thing?

Diesel said...

Damn, #3 sounds like loads of fun. Now if you don't mind, I need to explain some things to jayjay.

edj said...

Xavier is always a good name, and works for boy or girl, in my opinion.

Good luck with the...options! ;)

Anonymous said...

You seem to have been pregnant for about two years .... by the way Mutley would be a nice name I think