Still no baby. Kristin's blood pressure is hovering in the 160-170/100s most of the time. She's on full bedrest. It seems a little ridiculous since her pregnancy's term... but we've done what we can to try to get labor to start at home: sex, nipple stimulation, acupressure, sex, wishing really really hard, acupuncture, the spiciest food imaginable. I keep suggesting castor oil, but Kristin has drawn a line on torturing her bowels. Apparently, her bowels are precious to her.
Finally, her blood pressure dropped to a charming 158/97 so we decided to do a daring and courageous thing... we got in the car and headed for the Idaho lottery. Foremost in our heads was the thought that heck, if we drive far enough away from our hospital we might tempt fate enough to send us our baby. And we might win the lottery. These both feel like the same thing.
You see, I feel that getting pregnant is a little like buying a lottery ticket (or winning a lottery ticket in a raffle, depending on how hard you have to try to get pregnant before you actually get pregnant) you buy your lottery ticket in a moment of hope and happiness and sure-that-you're-really-going-to-win-ness and then spend much time planning on how your life will change when you win the lottery, all the fun things you're going to do when you win the lottery, how happy the family will be when you share the winnings when you win the lottery, how different the house will look when you win the lottery. Very much like most of the conversations about the baby: how happy we will be when we have a baby, how different our lives will be when we have a baby, how excited the family will be when we have a baby, how all our dreams will come true when we have a baby, how we'll finally be able to go on that alaskan cruise when we have a ba... well, I guess not entirely the same. Still.
But it didn't work. Fate was not fooled. It's probably that we were never REALLY far enough from the hospital to make it risky. This afternoon I'm going to suggest Nevada...