I finally have an answer to the question I’m asked repeatedly—“When is your baby coming?” The answer? “In just four days!” It could be sooner, but at the very latest, it will be four days from now, as that is when my doctor has scheduled my labor induction. Knowing this brings a small measure of relief, preventing me from retreating to a remote cave until my son decides to arrive.
This is my first and likely only pregnancy, and I must admit, I have not enjoyed it. While I’ve heard tales of women who cherish this experience—I’ve even met one—I simply cannot comprehend that sentiment. My intense dislike for pregnancy is perplexing, especially when I try to rationalize it.
I didn’t suffer from morning sickness or any major health issues. The summer hasn’t been unbearably hot, and I have an incredibly supportive network, including my husband, who has earned his sainthood. So, my dissatisfaction with pregnancy isn’t due to any of these factors.
Yes, I will love my son when he arrives. That’s a crucial distinction. Do I enjoy being pregnant? No. Do I love my son, and will I continue to love him once he’s born? Absolutely.
As my pregnancy progressed and my belly grew, the unsolicited questions and advice became more frequent. However, in the last few weeks, they have triggered a heightened emotional response, making even a simple grocery trip feel intimidating. Before I set the date for my induction, when someone asked, “When are you due?” it would send my mind into a tailspin.
The due date felt impossibly far away—each day was a negotiation with the reality that it wouldn’t happen today, just to get out of bed. So, when a stranger posed that question, I’d feel an instinctual need to defend myself. A polite response like “August 4th” often gave way to more candid replies like, “Who knows?” or “Not soon enough.” There was even a moment in the cereal aisle where I just froze in silence, leaving the questioner awkwardly retreating, likely perplexed by my reaction.
Now, in this new phase of my journey, I can confidently say, “On or before July 28th!” and actually smile while saying it! Yet, this positive news has been met with an unexpected backlash: “Oh, you’re inducing? That’s not the best choice.” Yes, it is—I genuinely want to induce.
It seems there exists a stigma around labor induction that I wasn’t aware of. Some perceive it as selfish or assume it indicates a lack of concern for the baby’s well-being. (Did I mention this decision was made in consultation with my doctor, a professional in the field?)
While I anticipated some disapproval, I was surprised to find it more prevalent than I expected. I mean, come on—can’t people see the happiness on my face? Why rain on my parade?
So here I am, four days away from meeting my son and from the end of my pregnancy, and yes, the day I’m inducing. I’ve chosen to stay away from public spaces; I’m not going to work or out socializing. I’m at home, clinging to the calendar. Because by or before the 28th, this chapter will close, and I’m resolute about my decision to induce my labor.
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In summary, as I approach the final days of my pregnancy, I grapple with the stigma surrounding labor induction while remaining focused on the joy of meeting my son soon.
Keyphrase: Labor Induction Stigma
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