At school, we spent endless hours rehearsing for choir & band performances. The annual school musical production was the highlight of the academic year, and I remember the night of the full dress rehearsal being the final chance to pick up loose ends and polish up our performance. Needless to say, all students know the value of mock examinations - nothing better to help kick complacent students into an adrenaline-pumping panic mode.
In medical school, we practiced clinical skills on plastic dummies, poking and prodding friends, colleagues and other willing victims before descending on unsuspecting patients in teaching hospitals. Even as doctors we have regular Major Disaster Plan drills, usually simulating a plane crash at the nearby KL International Airport.
The Full Dress Rehearsal
Well, we never thought it'd be the same way in pregnancy.
Having had false alarms at 24 and 28 weeks (those were alarming ones), we had another couple last weekend (those were annoying ones). The last one was a Full Dress Rehearsal, culminating in a hospital admission complete with bags and infant car seat in tow. My cardiotocograph showed solid evidence of an active labour brewing with contractions coming every 5 minutes or less. The pain was bearable but I looked sufficiently distressed for the Obstetrician to insist on giving me an injection that left me dopey for the rest of the night.
Like a tropical storm, it came suddenly, and left suddenly.
5 hours later, I was left feeling my good old Braxton-Hicks contractions, still sleepy, a little disappointed, and quite foolish for creating such a fuss. Quite apparently, our unborn child had decided to spend a little more quality time with her mother.
Tales and Folklore
Prior to this admission, I had been doing some research on "DIY induction of labour". Of course, the medical profession encourages nature to take its course and will only induce labour for specific maternal or fetal problems. However, can it hurt to help nature move along a little faster?
Among the thousands of articles, blogs and scientific papers available online, none seemed to give a fully convincing non-medical method for inducing labour. In fact, some advice even seemed contradictory. The methods ranged from starvation & dehydration to ingesting all sorts of things, including: Chinese food, egg plant Parmesan(from a specific restaurant), Raspberry leaf tea, Primrose Oil, blue cohosh, pineapple, Mexican food, Lea & Perrins Worchestire sauce, Macaroni & Cheese etc.
Slightly more uncomfortable methods would involve taking castor oil, having enemas, and engaging in all sorts of physical activities - curb walking, scrubbing the kitchen floor after midnight, jumping and intercourse. Others depended on methods beyond our control - after all, how many of us can summon a storm or a full moon at will? Those with a leaning towards alternative medicine would no doubt consider homeotherapy, accupuncture or even hypnosis.
The winner has to be folks from the distant past. Have a look at this:
When a pregnant Plains Indian woman was near term and showed no sign of going into labor, tribe members would tie her to a rock in an open field and stage a mock "attack," pulling up their horses only at the very last minute, in hopes of inducing labor. The Pilgrims, for their part, would stand women whose babies were late against a pole, strap them to it, and pound the pole up and down against the ground -- apparently hoping to shake the baby loose. - Gina Shaw
http://www.webmd.com/content/article/62/71738.htm
http://www.webmd.com/content/article/62/71738.htm
As for me, I am convinced that our baby will arrive when she is ready. Despite trying some highly rated DIY methods, I am still left empty handed after several hospital admissions. Curiously enough, I am now quietly resigned to the fact that nature will take its course in spite of whatever arm-twisting efforts on my part.
My due date is tomorrow, but I won't be putting much hope on the 5% probability of delivering on that day.
Final words of encouragement
Before the days of epidurals and TENS, they must have circulated stories such as this to pacify anxious mothers-to-be:
"Shortt says that one day, while crossing the esplanade at Villaire, between seven and eight o'clock in the morning, he perceived three Hindoo women with large baskets of cakes of 'bratties' on their heads, coming from a village about four miles distant. Suddenly one of the women stood still for a minute, stooped, and to his surprise dropped a fully developed male child to the ground. One of her companions ran into the town, about 100 yards distant, for a knife to divide the cord. A few of the female passers-by formed a screen about the mother with their clothes, and the cord was divided. The after-birth came away, and the woman was removed to the town. It was afterward discovered that she was the mother of two children, was twenty-eight years old, had not the slightest sign of approaching labor, and was not aware of parturition until she actually felt the child between her thighs."
"Coleman met an instance in a married woman, who without the slightest warning was delivered of a child while standing near a window in her bedroom. The child fell to the floor and ruptured the cord about one inch from the umbilicus, but with speedy attention the happiest results were attained. Twitchell has an example in the case of a young woman of seventeen, who was suddenly delivered of a child while ironing some clothes. The cord in this case was also ruptured, but the child sustained no injury."-From Anomalies and Curiosities of Medicine, by George M. Gould, A.M., M.D., and Walter L. Pyle, A.M., M,D. (The Julian Press, Inc., 1896)
Anomalies and curiosities indeed. Sounds like something right out from "Ripley's Believe it or Not!". Perhaps I should just find some clothes to iron...
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