Desperate measures

We really want to have a baby now. Why is she still in there? My nerves are increasingly frayed, having spent every waking minute of the last few weeks expecting it to happen at any moment. But our imminent second daughter is evidently too comfortable where she is to instigate the change of scenery which is customary for phoetuses her age.

I can't begin to imagine how my wife feels. Well, I have an inkling, because she has told me, but my point is that this indefinite wait is much worse for her than for me. She must withstand continued discomfort, insomnia and immobility, all of which are now increasing exponentially their devastating impact upon her life. My wife is left in the ridiculous position of yearning desperately for an event of which she is absolutely terrified. The fact that she has previously survived one such event offers her little consolation; it only gives tangible form to her terror. Yet such is her current condition that yearn she does for labour to come.

And so we have reluctantly begun to give credence to some of the solutions offered by legend to our impatient plight. The fact that I am writing this, rather than a joyous recollection of birth, is indicative that these solutions are yet to bear fruit. We have failed to have any joy in the following ways:

Curry

We eat curry fairly regularly anyway. It has never been closely followed by either of us having a baby, so I was sceptical about its efficacy even before we had one (curry, not baby) last week. Admittedly we played safer than the labour-inducing theory demands, sticking with our usual korma and massala. Nice aftertaste; no babies.

Castor oil

Apparently this works by flushing out one's system, causing internal movements of such magnitude that one's uterus is disturbed into action. This, by all accounts, entails some rather unpleasant experiences. You have to be very keen indeed to give birth in the next 48 hours if you are to tread this path. Which is why we spent some time looking for castor oil in Asda today. The drawback with this method? We couldn't find any.

Twelve pineapples

This is a ridiculous notion. The thinking is that pineapples contain a labour-inducing chemical called bromelain, but only in such quantities that the consumption of one of these spiky fruits would get you about a twelfth of the way to the maternity ward. Clearly the prospect of eating the requisite dozen in one sitting is more daunting than infinite pregnancy.

One useful consequence of this theory is that I can at any time effectively express my sympathy for my wife's ongoing turmoil by offering to buy her twelve pineapples.

A long walk

If my wife's heavily pregnant condition allowed her even to contemplate such physical activity, then she would be far less inclined to take this or any other measure to bring the pregnancy to a climactic end. Thus, this possibility is rendered paradoxical at best.

Nipple stimulation

The idea of this is to make one's body think it is breast feeding, the result of which presumably is to induce in it a better-late-than-never style panic, causing it to cough up someone to be fed. This sounds almost sensible, and not altogether unpleasant until you discover that, to produce the desired effect, the stimulation is required for five hours a day. Outrageous.

Other methods

There are other methods, but my Mum reads this, so all I will say is that they are fun but they don't work.

And so we wait.