Check (of our) mate.

Friday and a visit to the Royal Wimmens for a scheduled check up.

The end result of pushing and probing and tests on Ruf's heart and mums "contraction" muscles...?

Well Ruf is just fine and dandy, heart pumping along at 130-150 beats per minute (that may be Lance Armstrong up the Mont Ventoux, but for a baby that's simply resting), a fairy normal fundal length of 41 cm (given 1cm per week being the standard), and sitting a little side on, so still vaguely posterior but not completely. All pretty damn good really.

Cept he's still in.

Likewise, Mum is also doing well health wise, with a gradually lowering belly though yet to be having any contractions/braxton hicks.

The only downside from the tests was the "lower end of normal" volume of amniotic fluid that young Ruf is floating about in, which by this stage may include a fair proportion of the little tackers own wee . (Being a certified windsurf nut, AB is a self confessed wetsuit wee-er from wayback, and hence reckons this is an entirely normal state for the fruit of his loins.)

Seems this low level on the amniotic dipstick is what you can begin to expect as you go over time and the placenta approaches its use-by date. The tests showed the volume wasnt low enough to need inducement straight away, but we'll be back again on Sunday to check it out again just to make sure. And if its still ok but Ruf's not out naturally then...

Tuesdays the day.

Yup,... April 17; smack bang on Mistress P's birthday.

That said, its still entirely possible that we'll be awoken in the wee small hours by a body naturally pushing Ruf towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

And to give the chance of this natural push a little boost along, Mistress P has had her mum (a trained therapeutic masseuse) giving all the pressure points that correspond to "wimmens bits" a solid pounding. Even if this doesnt bring on bub, all this attention sure as hell makes mum-to-be feel great...

This is always best if things come naturally, as medical (as opposed to lawn mowing or curry eating) inducement brings with it some elevated risks, including an increased incidence of "emergency" ceasarians and excessive bleeding. Still, once the risks from inducement are less than the risks of leaving bub to fend for himself in less than optimal surroundings, then its time to go. And they are only risks of course, certainly not certainties.

Inducement takes 3 forms. A gel to "ripen" the cervix and open it up, which can induce labour itself but generally just means that the doc can get a better stab (literally) at the amniotic sack so they can break the waters, something which again can get the labour cranking. Finally, if that hasnt got young Ruf's attention, a drip containing oxytocin (the hormone that the body produces naturally to instigate labour; and also may well be the love drug...) is tapped in and away you go.

In theory. Doesnt work perfectly every time.

So. A bit more foot rubbing.
Maybe a tryout on the lawn mower.
Possibly a weekend drive on a bumpy road.
And it that desnt work...
AB's got "The Meaning of Life" on weekly rental.
(To remind Ruf it's easy to get out - we'll turn down the sound at the bit where the kiddies are sold for scientific experiments.)

Postscript: While doing the heartbeat tests, the nurse popped in and said it'd take a tad longer as bub needed to relax a little. When she left, AB leant over and gave a little calming pep talk into Mistress P's belly ...and Ruf's heartrate dropped from 150 to 130. (True dinks.) Print this post