How NOT to have a baby, or tried and untrue DIY labor induction methods

No, I still haven't had this baby yet and am trying hard to be patient, knowing that this one will likely be late like my others. Sister was 10 days tardy and Bean, 8 days. With a due date of 11/27 this time around, I'm trying to resign myself to having a large-ish Sagittarius baby rather than a nice, petite Scorpio. It's hard not to hope that somehow things will go differently this time.

Just for laughs, I thought I'd put out there the different things I've tried before to get my late-lingering infants born already. This is partly to remind myself of what not to bother with and partly to fend off any well-meaning readers who have tips that may have worked for them, but which did not provoke my previously reluctant uterus to just get on with things. Here goes:

Castor oil: Supposedly works by stimulating bowel contractions and thereby sympathetic uterine contractions that turn into labor. In reality? Castor oil is some nasty ass shit that makes you have...well, nasty ass shit, actually. It's a powerful laxative that tastes foul, even in the peach ice cream milkshake recommended to me by whatever moron I was listening to when Sister was persisting in my belly. I'll never do that again!

Enemas: Was I butt-obsessed back then? I don't think so, but somehow I thought that trying an enema a few days after trying the wretchedly unsuccessful castor oil was a good idea. Again, just a lot of poop and no baby, with the added humiliation of having to stand in line at the drugstore with an enema box.

Nipple stimulation: By me, I mean, not by Husband. If you're using this as a labor stimulating measure, it's supposed to be for a long time--like, 15 minutes out of every hour for several hours per day. Who has the time? Not me, not anymore. I remember trying this when pregnant with Bean, on nights when we were watching movies. Husband could be absorbed in the movie and I could feel less self-conscious. Yes, it produced pretty intense contractions, but who knows if it contributed anything towards uterus readiness? An unmistakably late baby seems to indicate it didn't.

Blue and black cohosh drops: Recommended to me by my midwives when pregnant with Bean. I seem to remember they had me on a regimen of several drops per night, alternating the type. Icky, but seemed harmless and wasn't too expensive. Probably won't go out of my way to use it this time, though. Again, a late baby seems to indicate it just isn't worth even the $15 or so I spent on the drops at Whole Foods.

Sex: Semen contains prostaglandins, which are cervix-ripening hormones. A handy fact that husbands of pregnant women love, have you noticed? Sex is still nice if I can conjure up the mental fortitude to forget about my enormous belly and now perpetually engorged nethers. But doing it to stimulate labor introduces mental pressure that sorta kills the fragile mood. I'll do it for love, but not for labor.

Long walks: I walked A LOT toward the end of my pregnancy with Bean, briskly, up and down the hills around my neighborhood til my hips hurt and I wore myself out. It did nothing but make me tired. Oh, alright, I suppose it's just good to be getting some exercise in, but who wants to walk briskly when you're 40 pounds heavier than you're used to and there's a head rolling around among your pelvic bones? I'd rather rest on the couch and twiddle my nipples.

Evening primrose oil: This is something that my midwives are recommending to me this time around. I'm supposed to be taking 1000 mg orally and 500 mg inserted as a vaginal suppository every night. I was told not to start this til after 37 weeks which sounds promising, right? Like something might happen too early if you do go ahead and take it? But so far, after almost a week and a half, nothing. I suppose it's early enough still to say that the verdict is still out on this one. At least it also falls into the seems-harmless-and-not-too-expensive category.

That's all I'm remembering now, but isn't that enough to have tried and failed with before? I think so. This time, I'll just try--try hard!--to skip the angst, cultivate patience, and enjoy all the things I can do without a newborn on the scene just yet. Things like not having two sets of diapers to change, getting sleep interrupted only by two 30-second trips to the bathroom rather than a few half-hour-long nursing sessions, getting showers roughly when I want them, that sort of thing. I mean, I'll miss this when it's gone, right?