Scheduling an Induction, Analogously

Imagine it's the day before your wedding. You've been planning this event, in one way or another, your whole life. Ever since you knew what a wedding was, you've dreamed about how yours would be. You've sketched out countless dresses, chosen bridesmaids (who have summarily been dismissed and reassigned through the years), mentally arranged bouquets, planned the food, and even practiced writing your name with the last name of various beaux. This is one of the biggest events of your life and you know just how you want it to go. Of course, as the REAL event approaches, you have to acknowledge that you haven't been able to afford everything the way you envisioned it. You've had to cut a few corners and give up a few fantasies for the sake of the budget. But still, everything left is going to happen to your taste and specifications.

But then, the day before everything is to take place, your wealthy aunt, the one who likes to have a say in everything, announces that she has a surprise for you. Without you knowing, she has rearranged everything. With her vast sums of money, she has gotten rid of your small center pieces and substituted them with large, garish ones. The cake is now covered in bright blue butter cream flowers, just like hers were. Your tight bouquet of daisies has now become a streaming bouquet of ivy and lilies. And the location you chose for its sentimentality has now been moved to a large ballroom across town. All of it is the best of the best, the most expensive available. But it's not what YOU chose. It's not what you envisioned. Sure, you'll still be marrying the man you love, but all the imagining and excitement and anticipation is muted by the fact that this is not what you had planned.

Oh, so you're not the plan-your-wedding-since-you-were-four type? Or you're a man? Here, try this analogy:

It's Christmas Eve. You've been watching presents appear under the tree for weeks now. You love to look at them, pick them up and shake them, imagine what's inside. You can't wait for Christmas morning. And then, as you stand there the night before Christmas, someone comes in and tells you what's inside every single present. You know that Christmas morning will not be the same. Yeah, you were going to get those same gifts, either way, but without the excitement and anticipation of not knowing, opening them just isn't going to be the same.

Well, that's how I feel about the possibility of having to be induced. I know there is a baby. I know she's coming either way. But from the time I was little and knew where babies came from, I've imagined what it would be like for me. I never anticipated all the trouble and heartache that infertility issues would cause. I pictured deciding to have a baby and then, bada bing, being pregnant. It did NOT work out that way for me. Not when I wanted to, not how I wanted to. So to also anticipate going into labor, my body deciding how it would go--my water breaking, or labor slowly starting during the night, or suddenly getting hard contractions one afternoon, or whatever--and then not getting to experience any of that either, but just setting an appointment, going in and getting an IV, and having them pretty much force the baby out, well, it's just not the way I wanted it to go. And considering this is most likely my last child, I just had really hoped my body would figure things out on its own. The anticipation and excitement of seeing how things would go is what has gotten me through the last 9 months. It's my very favorite thing about being pregnant, just those last few hours once you know THIS IS IT! The baby is coming!

So yeah, it's my due date today. And unless this baby shows up tomorrow or the next day, I'll be induced on Friday. So please, if you're the praying time, pray for a Christmas miracle.