So it seems that our little “f” (note the excessive use of the word “little,” did you know Avery was 9lbs 8oz?) has a sense of humor or a healthy competitive side. My doctor penciled me in for an induction tomorrow.
After weeks of false starts I am now in about the fifth hour of contractions…it is beginning to feel like a game of chicken between her arrival and a pitocin drip.
Cross your fingers that the little rascal beats the little bit of medicinal intervention.