From the NST room. This was the last NST!

Dear Matthew,
I write to you from the glamorous throne of the NST room at the obstetrician's office. NST stands for non-stress test, and they want this test to evaluate how you're doing, but I'm quite certain you're under no stress in there. You seem quite content. I'm trying to enjoy what I hope will be your final moments in utero, but by the time you read this you will have met me. So you'll know how that's probably been going for the last week or so.

As my favorite book on pregnancy aptly points out, just about the time that a pregnant woman stops being terrified that the least little thing will bring baby into the world too soon, she becomes convinced that she will be pregnant forever. Yeah, I can see how they elf feel that way. But I'm not going to be pregnant forever. In fact, I'm not going to be pregnant for longer than one more week. The question is by what method will I cease to be pregnant?

My preference for us both is that surgical implements and immobility inducing meds not be part of the equation, so I'm trying to encourage things along. In fact, encouraging things along is pretty much a full-time job at this point.

Topically, I'm using lavender oil, castor oil, and spearmint oil. Internally, basil and evening primrose oil. I'm diffusing clary sage oil. I do squats and run up and down stairs, I sit on floors and bounce on birthing balls and have just added the trampoline. I crawl on my hands and knees and clean things (amazing what you find when you hang out on hands and knees). I have begun the faithful and intensive uses of reflexology, massage therapy, acupuncture, and chiropractor.

Since none of that had worked enough by yesterday I decided to try one of those "whatever can go wrong will" risks by sending my car to the detailers and being home alone with no easily accessible way to the hospital. I was pretty confident that 4 hours of that would get you moving. Alas, no. You are, in fact, so comfy in there that a nurse just came into the NST room to wake you up. You didn't like her method. She was very aggressive on top of my belly banging spoons. It was quite jarring! Like a miniature jackhammer. But it certainly woke you up.

I hope very much that any of the above methods convince you to come out, but if they don't, there's Cripple Creek! Some local Coloradoans swear that a trip to Cripple Creek will do the job. So a friend and I have made plans to head up the mountain on Thursday if you aren't out yet. The options are way less fun and natural after Sunday, so come on, sweet one. Let's do this!