This is why!

(Note from the author: For the DCF Ladies, this is copied from my "Doctors---GGGRRR" post in FF.)


I now remember with full clarity why I went with a midwife instead of an OB.

I had an appt. with my old OB/GYN for a second opinion about my cervicitis. He was my GYN back 4 years or so ago, but I haven't seen him since Kent and I were dating.

He checks me and says that everything looks fine, he thinks it is "probable columnar eversion" where the normal cells of the inner lining of the cervix "evert" into the outer os. No biggie. Nothing to worry about, and I'm good to go.

So....

The problem comes after he finishes up and is writing his notes. He starts asking me about using a midwife and why I chose to do that. I thought, "Oh, great. Here it comes. Lord, give me patience and guard my lips against saying what I really want to say about the medical profession in general". (Bear in mind, I was already extremely irritated, having sat in the waiting room till 5 after 12 when my appt. was at 10:30 and being the VERY LAST ONE sitting in there even though I was NOT the last to arrive.)

So I explain about wanting an intervention-free, hospital-free delivery where I could move around as I pleased and have more control over things. He's looking at me with barely-contained disdain, and starts in on how he goes to Guatemala every year and how so many of those women have babies that die in childbirth and blah blah blah, and that "that's the risk you take when you choose to go about it that way".

What?!?

I guess he just thinks I picked some women off the street, hauled them to my house and told them to catch the baby when she came out. I don't know.

So after he said that I looked him square in the face and said, "Well, I didn't go into this blindly. I did lots of research and got their statistics for hospital transfers, which is very low, and I knew what I was doing."

He still looked at me like I was a loon, but I really could not have cared less at that point. Whatever.

When I left I was so frustrated and infuriated that I could hardly see straight. I called my mother and vented (loudly, now that I think about it. I must call her and apologize) for about 20 minutes.

And people wonder why I used (and will continue to use, as long as God permits me low-risk pregnancies) a midwife.

So close!

Easter is almost here!

We had a meeting tonight to go over the specifics of the Vigil and what's going to happen, etc. Not too much, though, because apparently Father B. doesn't want us to know everything involved. Just the basics...where we'll be sitting, the order, stuff like that.

I really hope Bridget makes it through the entire Mass. I really don't want to put her in the nursery (and I don't know how she'd react to that, anyway), but the only other option would be for someone to take her out, and then they'd miss the rest. Hopefully she'll be good. We plan on having bottles and pacifiers at the ready.

I'm getting so excited and anxious. This is so huge, and I can hardly believe it's time already. I'm also glad the families seem supportive. Of course, most of them are probably talking behind our backs about how insane we are, but I'm not worried.


Oop, hear Bridget crying. Guess that does it for now.

Life as a mama

It's tough. There are moments, sometimes even days, when I think to myself, "What was I THINKING?!?!?!" She won't stop crying, she won't sleep, on and on and on......

But...

Then she'll look at me and grin. Or I'll leave the room for a minute and when I come back she'll glance at me, and it's as if she's never been happier. She'll kick her legs and squeal, and when I pick her up she'll lean back so she can see me and she touches my face and smiles.

And all the sleeplessness, irritation and loneliness is gone in that one second.

I understand now why my mother can't really remember whether or not we cried a lot or not. All the bad seems to be completely overshadowed.