I’ve been a woman possessed recently, I’m sure you’ve noticed. I’ve been occupied 24-hours a day torturing myself with my GTBOM experiments for weeks and weeks. It’s all in the name of research though, you should know that, it’s not just my impatience that drives me on, but also a genuine passion for helping out my fellow suffering baby-makers. :-)

I’ve tried everything now. Well pretty much everything (the only one I haven’t actually tried yet, is, (forgive me,) this one.)

I feel now is the time I should document my findings and gather my research in order to draw a conclusion upon my previous experiment. (Do I sound all scientific here? I’m trying . . . ) So white coats and enormous goggles at the ready.

THE CASTOR OIL REPORT

Materials required for Castor Oil Experiment:
100ml Virgin Castor Oil
One willing (if not a little desperate) victim. (Ooops, I meant Candidate)

1:30pm— Massive yummy lunch consumed, (Pasta, Bacon and Cheese Sauce) - in order to line the stomach.
2:00pm—40ml of Virgin Castor Oil mixed with pure Orange Juice downed in one. (Managed entire glass though gagged lots at final mouthful. Tasted similar to Vaseline, not that I have ever actually tasted Vaseline. Tasted similar to how I imagine Vaseline would taste based on the smell . . . Oh you get what I mean.)
2:01pm—Chocolate consumed. (Chocolate in my opinion rarely needs an explanation but in this case I ate a little to take Vaseline taste away.)
6:00pm—Darling husband returns home from work armed with toilet roll.
6:15pm—No symptoms to report other than irregular Braxton Hicks contractions. Am shocked.
6:30pm—Repeat dosage of Castor Oil and OJ. Down in one. This time nearly puke all over the dog. (Very sorry dog)
7:00pm—Lamb, roast potatoes and peas consumed. Very yummy. (Thanks Mum)
7:30pm—No symptoms to report. Am even more shocked.
8:00pm—Braxton Hicks get stronger and a little more regular.
9:00pm—Braxton hicks getting even stronger.
10:00pm—Strong contractions. Am bemused how, after downing almost an entire bottle of strong laxative, I have no sudden urges to visit toilet. Seriously, I apologise if too much info but must be only woman in world to drink laxatives and suffer not even an attack of flactulance. Only wind coming from me is seeping from area formerly housing brain.
11:00pm—Bemusement comes to an end as contractions merge with tummy ache and I find I didn’t get lucky at all. Toilet roll coming in very handy indeed.
11:30pm—Still keeping toilet warm. Can hear Mother and Husband giggling like children. Bastards.
12:00am—Contractions kick in. Ouchy. Phone hospital.
1:00am—Lorelei is carried to friends house, Mummy is put in car with car-seat, notes and labour bag. Excited. Scared. Nervous. Pained.
1:15am—Arrive at Kettering hospital. Shoved onto ward with 5 other women. One woman panting for England. Sounds as though having asthma attack. Can also hear slurping wet sounds of her husbands kisses. Cannot see couple from shitty stained curtains but conclude both are ugly and sweaty and gross. Feel sick. Lots of other women panting and crying too, though none as loudly as first. Lots of scared partners trying to keep composed too. No staff.
1:25am—Still have yet to be greeted. Am feeling very upset.
1:35am—No acknowledgement of my presence at all. Perhaps should begin wailing like greasy woman in corner, however tend to be very quiet in pain and not very good actress.
1:45am—Nobody cares I am here and no one wants to check on me.
1:50am—Go to toilet. Find approx 15 midwives chatting happily, sitting on desks and drinking coffee in reception. Could scream and cry all at once. Am thinking, ‘bollocks, will have baby at home by myself.’ Lots of women do it. Lots of new age hippies and such.
1:52am—Tell Mum and Jay of my plans. Still having contractions, still crying, but starting to doubt am in labour at all. Contractions not as strong as before.
1:55am—Leave shithole known as Maternity Ward and come home. Via MacDonalds. (Micky D's never lets me down - Golden Archers are my saviour.)
2:30am—Am home, first port of call? Bathroom. :-(
2:45am—Finish my 'chat' with toilet, swallow some pain killers and hit the sack. 

My verdict? Well it definitely did something because I’ve not suffered tightening’s as painful as that in the entire pregnancy. As for the nasty side effects? (Or should that be ‘bottom’ effects?! Lol) - well that wasn't so bad in the sceme of things, (though that’s easy to say now that bottom is healed and tummy is no longer in knots.)

Mum, who had been staying with us for the past few days in case I popped has admitted defeat and returned home now. Which means I won’t be treated to as many wonderful Clary Sage Massages and reflexology as I was, alas I was becoming quite accustomed to them and therefore have been swanning about (less swanning more waddling actually) like the queen of Sheeba. (Where is Sheeba by the way? Does such a place exist? And whom, might I ask, is the real queen?! Lol)
 
Will be calling mum back as soon as I get some real action though, (that’s if I ever do) and this time I have been focusing a lot on exactly what I’m going to do when labour does kick off. I’m thinking I’m going to put my foot down and argue a little more for the homebirth that I so want.  The hospital just upsets me so much and I know I’m going to have a terrible time of it if I have to go back there. I’m not being pessimistic, I’m just trying to be realistic. And this is a big deal. The birth of a baby is something no Mother ever forgets in a hurry, I’ve gotta make it a positive experience. 

So that’s my next mission. To secure my homebirth. And in the meantime . . . (and I hate myself for saying this but I guess . . .) Baby will come when he’s ready. 

Steph x 

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