I am not sure if you know this or not.  With your first pregnancy it may come as a surprise -- with subsequent pregnancies it is an easy thing to forget until it creeps up on you, but it gets terribly uncomfortable growing a baby who sits on top of your bladder and underneath your rib cage.  I have long told my childbirth classes this, and as of late, I am reminded again of its truth. 

Being 33 weeks pregnant, I have my list of complaints.  I feel like this baby can't come fast enough.  I even imagine going into labor early -- like today early -- just to be done with it. 

My back and hips are aching like never before (surely a sign my body is feeling too old to be going through a pregnancy again, right?).  Sleep is something that comes in fits and pieces.  I feel bad for my husband as I toss, turn, try to roll over but feel more like Ralphie's brother in "A Christmas Story," lying on the ground in his snowsuit saying, "I can't get up!"  Add to that restless legs that shake and quake of their own volition, the 5 pillows I have behind, around, under and between various body parts, and the snoring (yes, the snoring!) that wakes me -- the snorer! -- and I imagine there's nothing peaceful in our bedroom right now.   

My baby is still high enough that I can relate to this scene from "Tommy Boy," just replace bear claws with baby butt:  

It is surprising how hard a baby butt can actually be -- but there is not a lot of fat there, and it becomes this firm blockage that prevents me from bending over to put on socks or tie my shoes or reach down to release the emergency brake on the car -- and it is just plain uncomfortable.

Even with the baby still not having "dropped," my poor bladder is being pushed to its own limits.  I am convinced I am currently the top toilet-paper-user in the house, visiting the bathroom 4-5 times a night, and so many times during the day I probably use a roll every 24-hours.  I have adopted a policy of mandatory-usage if I get within 12 feet of a bathroom.  My logic is, even if I don't have to go right now, I will in 10 minutes, so I just pre-emptive-strike it.  
 
I notice I make a lot more noises as I progress through the normal tasks of the day.  I sigh and groan and yelp as I shift from sitting to standing, getting in and out of the car, bending down to (attempt) tying my shoes.  I swear I am not doing it on purpose, these sounds just escape my lips before my brain can even say, "That was quite the old-lady-carrying-the-cat-food-bag-into-the-house noise."  No offense to old ladies who have to carry the cat food bag into the house and may make noises while doing so.

This baby gets the hiccups probably 6-8 times a day.  I can't figure a pattern -- sometimes it seems like  they may come after I eat, other times they come when I am hungry.  Sometimes they just come.  They aren't the worst things in the world, they just feel like lttle spasms that jolt my uterus in various places every two seconds.  They can space out longer or shorter, but in my scientific explorations, I have noted they most frequently come every two seconds. 
 
These are just the things that bother me the most.  There are more issues I can mostly overlook.  With this list of complaints, though, it isn't hard to see why so many women press for inductions or agree to inductions when offered.  It is hard to wait!  It is uncomfortable to wait!  It pretty much sucks!  Don't believe that rare woman who, at 38 weeks pregnant says, "I still feel great, I am in no hurry to be done," because while she does exist, she is generally the exception, not the rule.  

The way we look at due dates, we often feel "overdue" by the time that day rolls around.  We are conditioned to believe our (bad, uncooperative, lazy) babies are just kicking back in there, buffing their ever-growing nails on the inside of our uteri, taking up time and space, while we grow more and more uncomfortable. 

When I was pregnant with my first baby, I read in "What to Expect When You're Expecting," that doctors only induce if it is medically necessary; so when my doctor offered, on my due date, to induce me, I took her words as medical advice being as they came from my medical practitioner's mouth.  Maybe my first clue should have been the way she asked without giving any scientifc rationale:  "Are you ready to get this over with?"  Well, heck yeah, I was ready to get this over with!  That's a vulnerable place to be!  Miserable, anxious, wanting that baby out from under your ribs and into your arms.  Who would say no?  And with that one question, I was set up to believe my body was done doing anything important for my baby and wouldn't go into labor on its own. 

I am not a patient person.  I hate waiting for things.  It took every ounce of confidence and trust I could muster, and some I didn't even know I had, to wait on my babies and pregnancies the next two times around.  But the evidence shows birth is safer for mom and baby when they are allowed to work together -- like Mario and Luigi saving the princess in tandem -- to let labor begin on its own.   

My step-sister, Michele, had her first baby via cesarean birth.  She was set up for an induction, and after many hours she heard the label "failure-to-progress."  To the brain, induction sounds good -- let's get this show on the road. The  body doesn't always have the same plans, especially when a woman hasn't had a baby before.  Even with the medications and procedures offered, the body may not make fast enough progress for the medical establishment.  In these situations, a cesarean birth can become necessary.  

With her next baby, Michele wanted to try a VBAC.  She chose a doctor who was comfortable with vaginal-birth-after-cesarean (although it required her to travel to a bigger city an hour away), and dreamed and planned for her son's birth.  As Michele's confidence grew in her body's ability to birth her son vaginally, her fears of the pain and work of labor didn't ease.  In order to cope with these intense feelings, she made the decision to get an epidural pretty early on in labor. 

Last summer Michele learned her family would grow yet again, and this time she was determined to step it up even one more level -- try for a VBAC with no pain medications.  Although she chose her same doctor, she did make one change - she decided she wanted a doula to accompany her and her husband during this birth.  That's where I come in!

Every baby and every birth is different, and this was no exception.  Michele's labor seemed to drag on and on and on this time.  I ended up at her house at about 3 am.  It felt a lot like a slumber party, and we let her incredible husband take a nap in bed while we laughed and swapped gossip and stories.  I knew we should try to get some sleep, seeing as how any time labor could pick up and we would all be exhausted, but we were truly having too much fun.  We finally decided to try resting, but Michele wasn't really able to get any sleep.

The next day (or later that day) found us still puttering around their house, playing with the kids, watching movies (Puss in Boots, Toy Story, something else, I think, and then Baby Mama!).  We were still waiting for labor to start rolling...we really had no way to plan for the baby-sitter, or my mom to travel to the hospital -- oh, and Michele's little sister just happened to be flying in that night, of all nights!  And my mom was going to pick her up in the event we were off having a baby (Murphy's Law!). 

At one point during Baby Mama I had Michele stand through a contraction in a deep lunge position, and I asked her to switch to the other leg during the next contraction.  It seemed after that, Michele's contractions really started to pick up.  That silent energy that so often comes when the invisible switch flips on inside the mama was humming around us.  Michele was buzzing around, calling the baby-sitter, pulling together the kids' supplies, finding her shoes!  It was finally time to go!

We climbed into the car, Michele in the back seat and her hubby at the wheel (I had shotgun) and we hit the road.  After about 75 minutes we walked into the hospital.  There was a woman ahead of Michele in line, but the receptionist could tell Michele needed to be the priority!  They quickly got us a room and let Michele start doing her thing.  After an intense 90ish minutes of labor, Michele was holding her new, sweet baby girl!

And it was intense!  Michele was amazing.  She coped in many effective ways.  She moved around and changed positions.  She verbally told us what she needed.  She even prayed outloud (although she said at the time she thought she was praying in her head).  I know it is hard to prepare for the unknown urgency of how labor feels, and Michele was able to take each contraction one at a time, focusing her attention on her loving hubby or me -- sometimes both! so she could keep her head above the water of the labor-waves instead of being tossed and turned about in the surf.  

I can't say how proud I am of this mama and her decision to seek something different in our not-very-supportive VBAC society.  The fact that she challenged herself even more by deciding to work toward a birth free from pain medications is something I am also impressed by.  It is scary to do something you have never done before, and armed with support and education, she not only set the goal, she achieved it.  Michele, you are amazing!  I admire and love you tons, and I will always remember the power and beauty you shared on the day your sweet little R was born.