I promise to get excited…soon

I didn’t get the birth that I wanted with the Terrorist.  I had a boorish, bully of a doctor that put the fear of God into me so that I conformed to his way if doing things.  I was told, obviously this was only done on occasions where my husband could not be present for the appointments, that I would be a 27 year old stuck in adult nappies for the rest of my life if I wanted to go ahead with a natural birth like my “birth-plan” stated. I was told that I am to small, that a bladder operation from 22 years ago would be undone and I may end up pushing my bladder out along with the baby etc. etc.

I was naive enough to believe him, when I went into labour before he could do the planned c-section I was pushed into a theathre so fast my head was still realing by the time they gave me an epidural and I felt like aliens had invaded my body. I had a severe freak out in the theatre and wanted to get up off the table with all my might, so that the husband had to press me back down.  I had no time to process.  It was like my body was possessed. I had no say.  It. was.terrifying.

Something that was supposed to be natural and joyfull turned into a painfull ordeal.  I was resentfull.  Who am I kidding, I still am.  Even now, when I find out a friend/acquintance/stranger is one of his patients, I advise them to run as far as their little feet can carry them in the opposite direction. I see red because it is an every day occurance that patients are bullied and duped by their doctors into doing what they, the doctors, want.

I am absolutely determined that this time around will not be the same.  I am doing my homework.  I am doing the research. I am making sure that I have the best caregivers, not only on the medical side but also emotionally, and to that end I am enlisting the help of a doula.  I have yet to get this okayed by the husband, but knowing me, I think it is vital.  I am very nervous, about everything.  The husband always jokes that I am a warrior..not the Xena kind, more like Stressed Eric (perhaps without the bulding arterie).

I have found a wonderful doctor that says that there is absolutely no reason for me not to be able to give birth naturally this time around.  He even gave it a fancy acroymn.  VBAC. My first appointment was like a breath of fresh air. For once, I was not treated like an ignorant naughty school girl that managed to get pregnant, but rather like a grown up that should have some say in how this pregnancy plays out. It really is a great relief.

Even so, I cannot help but get these fleeting moments of wanting to run into the hills screaming “What the feck where we thinking?”

I realise that this is what I/we wanted, we tried for seven months. (in comparison to others, that is like 2 seconds but to me it seemed like forever. Not that I am complaining, the process was not completely awful).

I am not feeling at all like I thought I would, this time around. I want to be happy, glowing, floating of fairy dust, farting rainbows that kind of thing.  Instead I am one anxious knot with neck spasms that is likely to go postal at the slightest provocation.

Maybe my fairy dust is buried under a pile of determination? Right will get them out as soon as I have been able to move again and finished my research on how to fart rainbows…


Reincarnation is a bitch

I had to share this, I was griping with a friend of mine about people that just don’t pitch up for consultations.

She shared with me that someone cancelled his consultation because he had back ache.  She said that for situations like these that she really prays that reincarnation really is a possibility and she hopes he comes back as a woman and has eight babies, in sets of 2, then he wil know what pain is…

Moral of story, don’t mess with a midwife.