My son will turn 5 years old tomorrow, September 12th. I like to pretend sheer force of will and an iron cervix kept him baking until I gave him permission to be born the following morning.
I suffered from hypertension throughout my pregnancy and since my baby was past the 37 week gestation mark, my midwife wanted to kick start labor naturally with a membrane stripping on that fateful September 11, 2007 prenatal appointment.
It worked. Within minutes of arriving home, my contractions began.
There I was, at home eating tacos and weeping between contractions. I was weeping for two reasons: All I wanted to do was finish my tacos and second, I didn’t want to have a baby born on September 11th. When I posted as much on my online birth club board, I was ripped to shreds by the many women who were not only due that day, but were pretty sure they wouldn’t be giving birth any time soon. And just in case you didn’t know, hell hath no fury like a woman past her due date. You have no idea.
I was told stuff like, “You should BE so lucky to have a baby on this beautiful day of hope for America!” and “How COULD you say that?!…[read more]