“Please Induce Me!”

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My first son arrived a week early and weighed 8 pounds, 14 ounces. My second son was following the same measurement pattern and my doctor induced me one week prior to my due date. Our second son arrived weighing 8 pounds, 2 ounces, even a week early. As my due date approached with my third son, he was also following the other boys with his growth. I wondered (more like hoped) if I would again be given the choice to be induced.

I was ready. Between the frequent bathroom trips and the discomfort of lying down, I had trouble sleeping. My skin was stretched to the limit and it was the end of June in Arizona. Outside in 100 degree heat, my body was a furnace as it kept my baby safe and warm. Still, my biggest fear was that I would be in the Guinness Book of World Records for having the largest baby and my body would break apart under the pressure of delivering such a giant.

I voiced my fears to my doctor. He reassured me that I would not have a 20 pound baby. He added, “You will also never have a 5 or 6 pound baby. Your children tend to be in the 7-9 pound range. You have done it before and will be able to do it again,” he told me with conviction and added that we could discuss the option of induction in the next few weeks.

With each appointment, I thought for sure that I would be told that I was dilated to a 5 or 6 and still walking around like a supermom. But that didn’t happen. On my weekly visit two weeks before my due day, my doctor was on vacation.

“WHAT?” Doctors take vacations? How could he go on vacation when my baby was due in two weeks? (You can see how rational and unselfish my thinking was.) I tried to look on the bright side and feel good that I would see another doctor at the practice. At least this way, I would know two of the doctors when the time came to have my baby.

I waddled into the room, had my blood pressure checked and changed into the paper gown that barely made it around my big belly. As I sat and waited on the table, I swung my swollen feet and starred at my brightly polished toenails as I practiced my inducement plea in my head.

The young and pretty female doctor walked in and I felt instant comfort. Oh, she has to know how uncomfortable I am and will surely give the permission to schedule an induction date. So I thought.

She was kind and took great care to listen to me and check on my baby. She also informed me that my doctor was the only one that could allow the inducement to take place. He was on vacation for another five days. She asked me to make another appointment for the following week to see him when he returned. “But that is one day before my due date!”
I walked out carrying my card for next week’s appointment with my head down and my eyes burning as I held back tears of disappointment. There would be at least one more week of my belly entering the room two minutes before the rest of me followed.

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We value and respect our HERWriters' experiences, but everyone is different. Many of our writers are speaking from personal experience, and what's worked for them may not work for you. Their articles are not a substitute for medical advice, although we hope you can gain knowledge from their insight.