So here we are. Tomorrow morning we're going to see the doctor again. I will have reached my calculated due date and he's willing, if the baby is in the right position, to induce. Funnily enough, I'm not sure if I want that any more. I seem to have lost my urgency in getting this baby out, and also some of the fears of giving birth. There is still the theoretical fear that either the baby or I will die in the delivery room, but it's not making me nervous any more.
Tonight Babes and I were out for a nice meal together (last chance for a while), and I think I felt the baby move down and I also had some practice contractions. Or wind. Pot-ay-to, pot-ah-to. All of a sudden I have a glimmer of hope that this baby might come by himself. He probably won't, but I'm hoping he will. I suppose I will see what the doctor says. He seems like a pretty sensible guy. (I just hope he doesn't lose his patience with me if I tell him I've changed my mind about the induction.)
My dream scenario is that these practice contractions will develop into the real thing tonight, and by tomorrow morning I will have delivered a beautiful baby all by myself. Okay - maybe with a little help from an epidural by the very end, but mostly all by myself. I am daydreaming of having the first part of labour at home - in the bath, repacking my bag (actually - packing, no re- about it - I still haven't got around to that), phoning my mother to come watch the children, waking them up near the end to tell them the exciting news. Then when I finally do go into the labour ward and scream for an epidural, they will tell me I'm at ten centimeters and ready to push.
Because that's how labour goes for normal people, right? And that's what I want this time.
So - I may not write here again until I've had this baby. Or I may be back tomorrow and have nothing to report. The practice contractions have stopped now, so at least the natural birth tonight seems to be out.