At 38 weeks pregnant, a switch automatically flips in my head, and I am officially done with pregnancy. This is the time I usually start Googling natural ways to induce labor. Once I hit full-term, each day after becomes torture. Between the backache, the swollen fingers and feet, the waddling, and the outrageous effort it takes to simply change positions on the couch, late pregnancy is an absolute nightmare. Pair those symptoms with the overwhelming desire to meet the next love of your life, and it’s a recipe for a disastrously desperate woman.
I've been pregnant before, but the final stages of pregnancy always feel like they drag on forever. You're tired, you're sleepless, you're anxious, you're nervous. Friends, strangers, and the internet at large tout a litany of ways to induce labor on your own: waxing, spicy foods, pineapples, and lots and lots of sex. Nothing comes with a guarantee, but do they work? Would they work? Could they work?
So at 38 weeks, I began trying every natural labor induction technique friends, family and the internet had to offer. Over the course of two weeks, and increasing desperation, I did it all until I finally landed in the hospital at 6 centimeters dilated and a mere three hours from holding my third baby. Here are the results.
I scheduled a full wax for the day I hit 38 weeks. I figured if it put me in labor, great. If it didn’t? I’d be ready when the time came. Besides, I had officially passed the point where I could shave anything but my armpits. I needed this in a bad way.
The woman who was waxing me had no idea what she was walking into, and I felt like a horrible person for not even mentioning I was pregnant when I scheduled the appointment. She told me someone warned her I was in the waiting room, “like, really pregnant,” and promised it was no big deal. But the whole time she was waxing me I could think of nothing but the horror of my water breaking while I was on the table. That and a few other key uncomfortable questions, like: Why is it so hot in here? Why am I so pregnant? Why isn’t this making me have contractions? What if I fart? Pregnant women have to fart a lot. What if I pee myself a little? Or a lot? But seriously, what if my water breaks?
It didn’t, of course, and I left without anything horrific happening. Or anything at all happening for that matter. I was still very pregnant, and nowhere near in labor.
I walked (or more accurately, waddled) my way up the steep hill behind my house daily. I would drag the kids the wagon for mile-long walks every day, working through mild contractions, begging for my water to break. It was ridiculous how grueling walking uphill was. I found myself singing the “Be A Man” song from Mulan, to get me to the top of the hill, which, although wholly inappropriate, was pretty effective. It was not, however, an effective way of putting me into labor. Unless you are already in active labor, walking around doesn’t do much, so I was just making myself uncomfortable for nothing.
Even though I was frustrated as my contractions waned after the long walks, I chalked it up to being good stamina training for when the big day finally came. Plus, being out in the sunshine and fresh air was good for me. It may not put you into labor, but walking is certainly not a bad idea.
Everyone and their mother (literally) had a “sure to put you into labor” trick they swore by. The most common? “Magic” foods. Some women swore by pizza. A few mentioned that a nice steak dinner put them into labor. A handful swore by sushi, and one even claimed that the Trader Joe’s vegetarian sushi roll was what put her into labor. Then, of course, were the spicy foods.
I ate it all. From the disgusting grocery store vegetarian roll, to a veritable buffet of the spiciest foods from my local Indian restaurant, to going out for two nice steak dinners (I’m not mad about that), I tried every food on the list. Every time I would finish a meal, I’d wait with unreasonable expectation, willing my water to break.
The result? Nothing. Well, except for the steak dinner. That resulted in a pretty happy pregnant woman. I highly recommend a steak dinner. For science.
Pineapple is one of the few labor inducing techniques with some merit behind it. Fresh pineapple contains bromelain, which acts as a prostaglandin, helping to soften the cervix. While it won’t put you into labor, if you’re looming on the edge of active labor, it could supposedly help give your body that final push. One of my best friends attested to this, saying she ate two whole pineapples and woke in the night to her water breaking. The internet revealed many more similar stories. I was feeling very optimistic.
I went to Trader Joe’s and bought 10 pineapples over the course of my last two weeks of pregnancy. I ate pineapple until my lips were chapped and bleeding. I ate whole pineapples in single sittings. I came to the end of my pregnancy never wanting to eat another pineapple as long as I lived. Still, no baby.
I will, however, say that I don’t entirely regret all the pineapple eating. When I finally did go into labor, I think it went quickly because my cervix was softened and my effacement was well on its way. Then again, I might just be trying to justify eating 10 whole pineapples.
Raspberry leaf tea is supposed to help with uterine contractions, though there’s some contradictory evidence as to whether or not it works. I had drank some before I went into labor with my daughter, but it certainly didn’t seem to be correlated since strong contractions didn’t start until much later. However, at 39 weeks, I gave it another shot. Since my midwife gave me the green light, I drank six cups of raspberry tea in a single night (OK, she didn’t technically give me the go ahead to do that exactly, but she said the tea was fine).
At this point I was getting pretty disheartened, and felt like I was never going to have this baby. I knew this wasn’t true, but it’s amazing how time seems to stand still when you haven’t seen your toes from the standing position in five months.
My midwife and plenty of others suggested sex to get things moving along. I had no problem with that, except that sex while nine months pregnant is like a weird circus act that no one wants to see. The only reason it was hot and heavy was because of my increased basal body temperature and the extra 35 pounds around my midsection. I’m not saying it was a bad idea to have sex (especially considering the long stretch of sexless newborn time ahead), but it takes some serious effort and dedication to do the horizontal hustle in late pregnancy. You’ve been warned.
As for inducing labor, it definitely did not. It certainly wasn’t time wasted, but yet again I was waiting hopefully for my water to break only to be met with more disappointment. I was beginning to think that all these “natural” remedies were just myths that kept pregnant women busy while waiting for baby to come.
At one point, I woke in the night to get a glass of water and there was some, um, uncontrollable leaking. I wasn’t having strong contractions, and I wasn’t totally convinced my water had broke, but I also didn’t want to believe that I had peed all over my kitchen floor in the night. I sheepishly called my midwife the next morning to tell her that my water maybe, possibly broke or I had excessively peed on the floor, but either way I wasn’t in active labor. She scheduled an appointment for me to get checked out and in the meantime instructed me to get out my breast pump to get active labor going (in case my water had broke).
This one works. Like, whoa. The contractions were intense and got increasingly closer together. I was still having them when I went in to get checked, and my midwife had to break the news to me: I wasn’t in active labor, and I had indeed peed on my floor. She told me no more nipple stimulation since we were aiming for a natural labor, and thankfully the contractions gradually subsided.
Stimulating your nipples is something you shouldn’t try without running it by your practitioner first. Apparently it can force you into labor too early, which is no good for anyone. Though if you’re in active labor and it’s slow going, they’ll probably give you the green light to help you get things moving naturally.
At my 39 ½ week checkup, my midwife, having recently seen me for my false alarm and noticing that my dilation was still moving along at a snail’s pace, recommended that I try castor oil. She knew I wasn’t getting much sleep and that I was desperately concerned over how alarmingly big my stomach was (especially since nurses kept saying what a big baby I was going to have). She knew I was done.
She gave me the instructions to mix a couple tablespoons in with some scrambled eggs or orange juice in the morning and behold the wonders of explosive diarrhea. She didn’t use those words exactly, but she did confide that it was really the only natural labor induction technique that worked. The gastrointestinal cramps give way to real contractions, and active labor follows soon after. She assured me that the diarrhea would subside before I gave birth (the nightmare!), but warned me it was a pretty difficult way to start labor. No kidding.
On the eve of my due date, I stood in the grocery store staring at a small bottle of castor oil. As badly as I wanted this baby out, I wasn’t sure I could do it. I had heard horror stories from women who had started labor this way. All of them warned me: DON’T DO IT. They said they were exhausted and dehydrated by the time they started labor, and it made the whole birthing experience miserable.
I walked away from the castor oil and into the frozen food aisle. If explosive diarrhea was what I was looking for, I knew where to find it. I had previously made my husband promise to never, under any circumstances, ever let me eat frozen jalapeño poppers again as long as I lived. But desperate times called for desperate measures. I went home and ate the entire box of jalapeño poppers, and by the time I had finished, they were already working their, um, magic. I had terrible cramps and an unpleasant time in the bathroom. But after the storm had passed, I was still cramping badly. Except, they weren’t cramps. They were real contractions.
I stayed at home for three hours, working through increasingly painful contractions until I finally went to hospital. Even though I was still scared I might just need to take a terrible poop, I ended up getting admitted and had a big, beautiful baby boy in my arms just three hours later.
I have recommended processed jalapeño poppers to every pregnant woman I know. It’s my own personal magic food. Though, if processed jalapeño poppers aren’t your intestinal kryptonite, go with whatever food that’s guaranteed to end in a horrible night in the bathroom. It may not be the most pleasant way to enter labor, but it must be better than castor oil. You may be shaking your head now, but trust me, when you’re 40 weeks pregnant, you might be staring down a bottle of castor oil in the grocery store, too.
Mostly, by the end of my experiment, I was more sure than ever that no two pregnancies are the same. The is no method of labor induction that’s guaranteed to work for everyone, or even one that will work for most. So if you feel like desperately grasping for control (like, ahem, me) near the end of your pregnancy, eat the magic foods, walk the miles, do the deed. Baby will come eventually, and at least you’ll be busy in the meantime.
Images Courtesy of Gemma Hartley (9)