Daily Archives: September 2, 2009

a rebel in maternity wear

I am feeling more than a little defeated. We just got back from today’s midwife appointment. We saw a different midwife–one we met and liked a couple of months ago. She’s a lovely person, but we’re learning she’s much more mainstream obstetrics than midwife.

Because we hadn’t seen her in awhile, she scanned my chart and quickly found the note the OB had written about suggesting induction at 38 weeks. She saw that it was likely because of the baby’s size, and she also saw the note from the other midwife stating that we wanted to wait. I told her that I wanted to avoid the downward spiral that is so often a pitocin-induced labor, and her response was that while she felt the same way when she had children, as a professional, she sees things differently. Ugh. Here we go again, I thought.

After measuring me and listening to Egghead’s heart, she concluded that we’re both still in great health. Then there was this throwaway comment–that since we’re both in good health, there is no medical reason for induction. It’s just that he’s big. Yes, he’s big. She made sure we knew that in another week he could grow half a pound or pound, and then when I asked when, in her opinion, we should really consider induction, she said, “Now.”

What. the. fuck?

At that point, she was ready to leave. No internal exam, just “Unless you have any other questions, we’ll see you in a week.” I asked if she had planned to do an internal exam–hell, they had already made me undress for it–so she did, and her news was even less encouraging. She thinks I might be one centimeter dilated, but the baby’s head isn’t far down at all, and she left me with the impression that no progress has been made whatsoever and that the only way this baby is coming out is through induction.

I would like to reintroduce one small piece of information: My due date is still eight days away. Eight days. They’re acting like I”m a month overdue with a fifteen pound child, and while Egghead is no waif, he’s likely at this point just barely nine pounds, and that is if we are to trust the ultrasounds, and of course, we’ve all heard the multitudes of stories of ultrasound weight predictions being more than a little off.

I’m livid and defeated, and I have only been able to stop crying for moments at a time since we left. I’m still not scheduling an induction, but I did schedule an appointment with the OB for next  Tuesday morning. I’m sick of so many mixed messages. The midwife we’ve been seeing most recently has been so positive and encouraging, and that is what we need right now. Instead, today, we have this midwife who seems just as fearful and controlling and by the book as any OB would be. It feels like they’ve got these sets of equations, and they’re just plugging my pregnancy into them without looking at me. Somehow, I’m not part of the equation. I don’t matter. All that matters is getting the baby out as simply as possible. I hate being treated like this; it’s so far from what I ever wanted, and I’m so tired of fighting.

To top things off, I’ve been fighting a cold for a couple of days. Why? Why?

I guess I respond best to things like this through action, so my next action is to try to get Egghead to do some dropping. As painful as it is on my pubic bone to do much walking, we’ll be walking as much as I can. I’m going to sit and bounce on the damn yoga ball throughout each day, and I’m starting a regimen of evening primrose oil. I just can’t sit around feeling defeated, feeling like yet another victim of our country’s broken obstetric system. I can’t do it. I want our son to come, but I want him to come naturally. I want to be allowed to trust my own body. Why is that such a crime? Why does this make me some kind of rebel?

I’ve also just got to escape some of the pressure to have this baby as soon as possible. I’m not a fast person. I don’t do things on other people’s timetables, and I don’t deal well with external pressure. The calls from my family, while sweet, are not helping any more than the pressure from the OB. I need to find my center, my power, my strength again. I need to remember that this is something I can do.

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Filed under Egghead, midwife, OB, the P word