Doctors and midwives have an uncanny power to turn your day upside down with a few remarks. My first appointment in CA was with the Midwife instead of my OB that I used with both of my previous pregnancies. One would think that a Nurse Midwife would be the preferential option between the two when you agree with the Bradley Method because you associate a more natural approach with a Midwife, or at least I did. After waiting in the exam room with my two young children for over an hour the Midwife came in and proceeded to use that opportunity to update my chart by asking me all of the information that I had previously had faxed over weeks ago. Then within the span of a few breaths she threw out several interventions, said I shouldn’t gain anymore weight for the rest of the pregnancy, and kept referencing to my previous births as though going sans epidural was an accident. I left the appointment dumbfounded and seething.
A quick blurb on my weight first. I have PCOS which wasn’t diagnosed until I was 26. From the age of puberty until diagnosis I had a serious battle with weight. I would work like crazy at the gym, hike trails, everything and still the mirror would refuse to reflect my efforts. After diagnosis and medication I was able to loose the baby weight from my first pregnancy plus get 10 pounds below my pre-pregnancy weight before becoming pregnant with my second child. To me, that was a HUGE accomplishment. Then after baby number two and a move across the country I was able to once again tackle the monster and loose baby weight plus get 15 pounds below my second baby pre-pregnancy weight. That weight loss journey brought my total loss to over 40 pounds. Now, here I am in my third trimester having made it through two rounds of bed rest plus one round of modified bed rest with only having gained 15 pounds from transfer to 28 weeks pregnant. I was patting myself of the back for great numbers until the midwife said that. It felt like all of that hard work over the past three years had just been kicked in the teeth and the wind had disappeared from my sails.
After some therapeutic venting to my dear friends I was able to charge on with my daily routine and pull up my big girl pants with the attitude that I wasn’t going to let this person push me around or dictate my mood. It took a day or so, hormones really like to blow things out of proportion, but I did it. I pushed back on one of the interventions already and am prepared to stand for my birthing rights if any others come to head. Thankfully I did have a great experience previously with my OB so I am just going to ensure my remaining appointments are with him or the nurse practitioner that I remember loving as well, no more madame midwife.
Speaking of remaining appointments, I am now on every other week prenatal check ups (already?!) and have to go for a growth ultrasound because Surro Baby is measuring ahead by three weeks (maybe snooty pants should have taken that into account too? sorry, sorry, I’ll stop).