Splendadly Uncomfortable

No, my spell-checker is not broken. Alternative title: If My Husband Had Gotten My Ice Cream Order Right, Ada's Birth Story Might Have Been Very Different. But that's kind of long and cumbersome.

See, I've had some experience with no-sugar-added milkshakes with Splenda. This experience led me to believe that one such dessert might be of assistance to me in kick-starting labor when Ada was nearly two weeks over-due and my doctor had scheduled me for an induction.

I fully agreed with the necessity of getting her out into the world, but would have preferred avoiding Pitocin, so I tried several DIY methods to start labor, to no avail.

One night, after a dinner of very spicy Mexican food, I sent Paul out to get me an ice cream milkshake, made with Splenda. He brought back back a different flavor of ice cream, in, if I recall correctly, concrete form. There was still Splenda, but it had no effect on me. Nor has any other serving of Splenda since. My body has become accustomed to it! I thought.

Slightly tired of sugar-free tapioca (Lent is almost over, right?) I asked Paul to bring me home a no-sugar-added milkshake after Ellie's gymnastics class tonight. He did so, and it was delicious.

It also made me cold, so I had a cup of powdered cappuccino sweetened with Splenda to warm back up.

And I've spent the last couple of hours glad that I don't have anywhere else I need to be.

It would be an interesting experiment to try to determine whether it's the milkshake form that causes the reaction, or whether it was the two different servings of Splenda tonight. (Can it be possible that I've never done that before?) But I think I'll save that experiment until next time I'm trying to kick start labor, or maybe just really need to get out of jury duty. Just kidding. I don't mind doing my civic duty.

Gotta go.