I just don't feel pregnant. Other than my face looking puffier and redder than usual, that is. Part of me worries, is the baby okay, and part of me remembers what a NOT having a baby will do for me, real vacation for Karl and me, maybe next year, not having to pay for daycare, no labor/childbirth struggles. I want a homebirth, but I want pain relief. If I do unassisted, then I don't have to pay a huge bill, but there would be noone to sign my forms for short-term disability after the baby is born. But ultimately, it would probably still be cheaper in the long run. If I hire a midwife, they want to be paid prior to the birth, and I could still be transferred which would be a killer financial.Double hit. I would have to get prenatal care for my own peace of mind, even if I went unassisted, because *I* want to know the likelihood of complications-is there a defect that might need immediate medical care. It is important to me to know this as much as possible beforehand. But then that means the pressure those last few weeks, when the doctor starts worrying about size and going too long. Nevermind that this doctor once said I had the pelvis for an 11 pound baby. She still backtracks and says doesn't want too big of a baby (no, I have not yet had gestational diabetes). So, you know, the trust issue. Or last time with Gabe, she told me he was breech, and then the next time, didn't say a thing. I asked her, and she said, no, felt fine. And I wondered, is she just full of it? Wouldn't she know I would be worried about that. I don't want abdominal surgery. If we are about to die, sure, but not for her convenience.
Ooh, the trust issues. Noone should feel bad about their birth experiences, hospitals are formidable places, and let's face it, they are in control. But, I WANT to have this baby vaginally, I think it's medically important if at all possible, and going to the hospital always means, you are ultimately in their control. And they don't care about your emotions and memories. They care about lawsuits.
And nurses. It's really luck of the draw. When we went for the labor that stopped with Liam (I was at 5 cm, but the contractions stopped as soon as I hit the hospital), the nurse was amazing, but we went home. When we went back a couple days later, I had the nurse from HELL. Bossy, judgemental, and kept giving her political opinions. I WAS IN LABOR. Shut the hell up!
When Gabe was born, we had a quiet, professional, kind nurse, who left us alone most of the time, which was fine. But I would prefer someone warm, like the first, who I felt comfortable with and cared for. Is that too much to ask?
I hate these feelings.
So now I am just like-whatever.
New person in family? Maybe. Right now, I feel like it is the little Oliver that Gabe should have been (but noone liked the name). It has to be Oliver. But I want a girl, of course. I love dance lesson, and cheer, and frilly dresses, and shopping, and, oh little girl, I hope it is you.
Obviously at my age, I worry about Downs. But that is determined already, so worrying won't change anything.
And I worry about miscarriage, and I feel guilt, because if I do miscarry, I am just not going to do this again. I feel that shows a lack of commitment to bringing this soul to earth. Yeah, I am weird.
Party today. I wish I wasn't sick. I hope I can talk by then. I hope I have the energy to help get the house in tip-top shape. Karl did a LOT of work yesterday, and we had the downstairs carpets steamed, but still. So much left to do.
And since this is my kids' blog, and you have seen all my worries and rants over Liam, he got into Wings, the gifted program. In the end, we did not medicate him for ADHD, because there was still the question of whether he was just bored or not. And when his teacher told me he disturbed everyone during storytime, but still knew the answers, I stopped worrying quite so much. He just needs an understanding teacher who can keep him occupied and gives him some breathing room,, so he doesn't rebel (because it goes down hill quick, then).
Love.
Ooh, the trust issues. Noone should feel bad about their birth experiences, hospitals are formidable places, and let's face it, they are in control. But, I WANT to have this baby vaginally, I think it's medically important if at all possible, and going to the hospital always means, you are ultimately in their control. And they don't care about your emotions and memories. They care about lawsuits.
And nurses. It's really luck of the draw. When we went for the labor that stopped with Liam (I was at 5 cm, but the contractions stopped as soon as I hit the hospital), the nurse was amazing, but we went home. When we went back a couple days later, I had the nurse from HELL. Bossy, judgemental, and kept giving her political opinions. I WAS IN LABOR. Shut the hell up!
When Gabe was born, we had a quiet, professional, kind nurse, who left us alone most of the time, which was fine. But I would prefer someone warm, like the first, who I felt comfortable with and cared for. Is that too much to ask?
I hate these feelings.
So now I am just like-whatever.
New person in family? Maybe. Right now, I feel like it is the little Oliver that Gabe should have been (but noone liked the name). It has to be Oliver. But I want a girl, of course. I love dance lesson, and cheer, and frilly dresses, and shopping, and, oh little girl, I hope it is you.
Obviously at my age, I worry about Downs. But that is determined already, so worrying won't change anything.
And I worry about miscarriage, and I feel guilt, because if I do miscarry, I am just not going to do this again. I feel that shows a lack of commitment to bringing this soul to earth. Yeah, I am weird.
Party today. I wish I wasn't sick. I hope I can talk by then. I hope I have the energy to help get the house in tip-top shape. Karl did a LOT of work yesterday, and we had the downstairs carpets steamed, but still. So much left to do.
And since this is my kids' blog, and you have seen all my worries and rants over Liam, he got into Wings, the gifted program. In the end, we did not medicate him for ADHD, because there was still the question of whether he was just bored or not. And when his teacher told me he disturbed everyone during storytime, but still knew the answers, I stopped worrying quite so much. He just needs an understanding teacher who can keep him occupied and gives him some breathing room,, so he doesn't rebel (because it goes down hill quick, then).
Love.
I had so many of those same concerns with the girls. (Hugs)
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