Wednesday, August 25, 2010

I'm having a baby, my baby and me.

Well, I've put this off long enough I suppose. Here it goes.

I'm currently 13 weeks pregnant.

Some of you might recall that Finn's birth was, let's just say, a less than ideal delivery. You may have heard it straight from me. You may have read it here or elsewhere. It left me with some serious emotional scars, and no matter how much I want to remember the day my little man was born as a happy one, I can't.  So, it's no surprise that when we started thinking about having a second child, I wanted to plan for a completely different scenario. And when I discovered I was pregnant and had the appointment to confirm the pregnancy, you can imagine my horror when the following transpired:

Nurse:  So, are you planning on having a scheduled c-section or on having a vaginal birth?

Me: Well, my son was born via emergency c-section but I've been planning on a VBAC for this one.

Nurse: Oh, that's not going to happen.

Me: (Now in tears) Excuse me?

Nurse: Well, I don't know who you're planning on seeing, but the doctor that works with our office absolutely will not let you attempt that. And I'm certain that the doctors that deliver at Butler won't let you either. They'd be crazy to. There's just too much risk.

Me:  (sobbing) Are you kidding me?!

Nurse: Was the problem that you were tired afterwards? Because with scheduled surgery you won't be tired.

Me: (jaw on the floor) Of course I was tired! I just had a freaking baby! Being tired was NOT the problem!

I exited shortly thereafter completely unsure of what to do. I was hysterical. I was furious. And I couldn't even call my mom to vent because we hadn't told anyone yet.  Adding to the frustration was having to deal with sorting out insurance and figuring out which doctor's office I could actually use. Butler County is insanely complicated with this and it took 4 weeks to get coverage and book an appointment.  And this appointment was just to fill out an hour and half of paperwork and to have some initial bloodwork done. Luckily, the nurse I had at the maternal services office was an angel. She took weeks of fretting and anxiety off of my mind by informing me that the nurse at family planning was full of bullshit. That their office would actually encourage me to attempt the VBAC, not tell me I was crazy and book the operating room for the day I hit 38 weeks.  Of course, more sobbing ensued (I'm an emotional pregnant lady). And I somehow managed to restrain myself from hugging Jan-the-best-nurse-in-the-world.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm fully aware that babies have their own plan. That no matter how much I "plan" for his or her birth, things can quickly change.  But, I also know that Finn's birth taught me to be more assertive with voicing my needs and wants regarding my medical care during labor. To not get mowed over by medical staff and pushy, jagoff doctors. I'm also looking forward to having the support of  Amy, a doula that I met though Finn's playgroup. I think having her there will also be a huge help to Steve who I think was very overwhelmed last time by my mom and the staff.  I remember looking over at him and seeing him with this startled, blank look on his face a lot. Luckily, he came to his senses when we were in the OR together and was leaps and bounds ahead of me in the sanity department by then.

So, here's hoping that this time around, things go a little better.