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18-5-2008 - Phattie

My mood while writing this blog: lots of different stuff!

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Okay, where to start. Doc's scale is 6 lbs different than mine... hers says I've gained 25 lbs this pregnancy. NOT happy about that. I voiced concern and she said as long as I don't gain 40, it's fine. Well, honey, let's talk. Cuz it seems that's what I'm on track for. Again, she suggested no food changes and to increase walking. I already walk for an hour 3x a week I told her. "Great!" Well, no. Cuz apparently that's not doing it! Oy. Not listening.

Then I start talking about a birth plan. And I told her I had some preliminary questions to ask before I tried to write them up. "Okay, shoot." Okay, well, I'd like to be in whatever condition is comfortable for pushing. "Oh sure. That's fine. You can do whatever you want. But when I come in, when you're crowning, you're on your back in the bed." I asked, "Well, I really think I want to have the option for hands and knees or facing backwards on the bed, kneeling." "Well, that's kind of how I have you do it, but on your back- since you're pulling your knees up, it's basically the same thing." Umm, frick no, it's not. I don't know what sort of anatomy classes you've had, but the ones I've had (more recently I'm sure, but this stuff doesn't change) states that the coccyx is mobile. So when I'm supine, it's smashed into my colon, which is smashed into... HELLO, the birth canal. Not listening. Then she went on about how natural-based her hospital is and that yes, they put the babe on mom right away. Oh, why no, why wouldn't we cut the cord? That's normal. UM, no, it's not. It's a medical procedure that denies my babe of 30% of the blood volume he COULD have if you left it open... AND all those delicious stem cells AND oxygen while he's transitioning to using his lungs.

I was really upset after talking to her and reflecting. After every response, she'd go, "Next." Didn't really have time to process what she had said. And when I did, I was pissed and felt belittled. It takes a lot for someone to maneuver my power away from me; and she did. I told Shawn about all of this, and my passive sweet quiet-voiced man got pissed and protective. I called him Papa Bear. "There is NO reason, if everything is fine, that that woman or any doctor needs to lay their hands on you. As far as I'm concerned, she can stand in the corner." When we kept talking, I mentioned that the nurse directs you with pushing and the doc flies in while crowing to "save the day." So as far as being TOLD how to push (I think I want to figure it out on my own; called physiologic pushing), we'd have to deal with the nurse. "Fine, then she'll just go stand in the corner, too. And when you start crowning, the doctor can join her."

I am very up-front and do not get bullied easily (any more). I know what I want (not just birthing), because I've researched the heck out of it, visualized it, everything I can do to prep for something, I do. And to have that attitude taken from me caused a complete shift in the way my husband usually behaves. It was like he turned into my linebacker while I'm trying to run the babe into the end zone (sorry, loved the metaphor, hence the graphic toonie face). My Papa Bear. He's always supportive, but usually just that. Supporting me. Now it seems he'll be protecting me when I'm the most vulnerable and need to focus on other things. It feels so great knowing how upset he got; he will definitely not let people slide stuff by. Thank God for him. Thank God.

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