Please Induce Me

Please Induce Me – a desperate plea to both my baby and Holy Cross Hospital, which has a new hospital policy of very conservative induction standards…even if a mother is dilating, effaced, completely uncomfortable, has a full-term infant confirmed as large by 4D ultrasounds and a history of large babies, mother is inconvenienced by child care needs for two older children, cares more about her own comfort than what is best for her baby and is a raging bitch on wheels.

(Sung to the tune of the classic love song favored by cheating bastard male dedication-making listeners of the Delilah radio show, Bryan Adams’ Please Forgive Me)

It sure feels like our millionth night together
Feels like the thousandth kick
You’re getting bigger baby
The size of a New York Knick
You’re still holding on
Wish you would come
Let’s let our eyes meet
‘Stead of pummeling me with your feet
Heartburn’s getting stronger
I can’t hold on much longer

Would you please turn that fire off….

So if you’re feeling cozy, don’t
Just get the eff out of Mom!
I only want to make you go
So if I whine more than I should…

Please induce me, you know not how I do
Please induce me, I can’t stop cursing you
Don’t extend this damn pain I’m going through
Please induce me, I’m at centimeters two!
Please believe me (Oh believe it), every threat I say is true
Please induce me, or on that table I will poo

Like hell this is our best time together
I prefer external touch
My cervix is not a moonbounce baby
And you’ve had enough
You’re still holding on
And I’m freaking done
I can feel the stretch of my skin
The expansion of everything
I can barely move
That includes my bowels too, yeah
These sleepless nights, while you dance the boogaloo…

So if you’re plotting late term, don’t
Time to exit the cabin from the door below!
I only want to make you go
So if I kvetch more than I should…

Please induce me, I’m not going to make it through
Please induce me, I’m hurling threats at you
Don’t worry, I know my dates are true!
Please induce me, her head is poking through
Please induce me (Oh believe it), I’m fired up to sue*
Please induce me, please book L&D room #2

The one thing I’m sure of
Is this baby is cooked, love!
And I’m depending on
Your Pitocin to bring her on!
With every f-bomb I am praying
You know I’m saying…

Please induce me, I’m swollen like a balloon
Please induce me, my boobs are bigger than a baboon’s
“Do no harm” and stop this pain I’m going through
Please induce me, my pelvis is cracked in two
Babe believe it, every word I blog is true
Please induce me, or I’ll resort to Creole voodoo
No, believe it, I will Google “home induce”
Please induce me, I can’t stop cursing you
I can’t stop cursing you

Yes, I know it’s safest for baby to stay in there as long as possible and be born at HER time, not mine. I know I’m beyond blessed that baby has made it full term. This is supposed to be humorous and complaining, not a medical stance. BTW she’s measuring 8-9 pounds, I’m 2 cm dilated, lost the plug, the doc can feel her head, my blood pressure is up, I’m retaining crazy amounts of water, can barely walk, she was a planned baby so I *know* our dates are correct…and yes, I’m being a total complaining bitch. I know, I know. I’m just ready.

* not really, it was just a good ticked-off verb that rhymed

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