But here it is. I'm gaining too fast. I'm back to eating normally but by gym time, I'm tired and don't go. I've also stepped up the desserts, my biggest weakness, which doesn't help me or Baby Aran, and that means it's time to take action.
So today: tons of water, thirty minutes of cardio and my stupid yoga DVD. No sweets. No more fattening sandwiches; I have much healthier stuff available. That's all for today.
That was really fucking painful to admit.
Now that it's over, though, I can talk about how I dislike my doctor. She likes to tease me because I always come into her office certain that it's all over, that I've tricked myself into believing I'm pregnant, or that the Bad News is coming. Once she gets the doppler on me she says, "Hear that? Believe you're pregnant now?" Which is cute. I like being teased. So then I admit, again, that I am a control freak and I like to know what's going on. Today she says, "Oh god, please tell me you're not one of those moms who have their whole birth plan worked out. I hate that."
Dafewk? Yes, I have it worked out - and with all the options available, I'd be more annoyed with a woman who did no research and just blindly did what her doctor advised. I know that I don't want drugs unless necessary; I know I want a tub and a shower and the freedom to move around; I know I want a midwife and a birthing ball and a nice aptmosphere where I can relax afterward. I know I do not want to be hooked up to machines that will watch me instead of humans; I do not want to be forced to give birth in a position I don't like; I do not want my baby taken away from me; I do not want to have to stay another day if there are no complications; I do not want the episiotomy. Yes, I've thought about these things. I suppose that makes me a bad patient.
My mother was an RN in a Mom & Baby hospital department for awhile. Most doctors have a "Call me when she's pushing" mentality. The nurses try to make you stop pushing, even if the baby's coming, until the doctor has time for you. C-Sections are done even when not necessary. It's insane. As if pregnancy and childbirth hasn't been going on since the beginning of fucking time.
I know how things go in hospitals. Most of your time there is spent waiting. The last time I was at the ER, for a just-in-case ultrasound my doctor wanted, I was there for hours. You can't empty your bladder before the ultrasound, so by the time I was wheeled in, I was ready to die. Then, at the end, dressed and ready to go, I waited another hour for someone to come by and do my final vitals. I was sure I'd been forgotten. Nobody would make eye contact with me. Finally, I asked a nurse about it and she lost her mind at me. Yelled at me that other people needed the attention more than I did. This is what they call care? Bedside manner?
Before you think it, I'm not rude. I'm damn near timid. I always subscribed to the philosophy about honey and flies (bees?) or whatever. Rudeness comes very, very late in the game, almost never, and comes out more like harsh bullet points than rage. I didn't deserve to be yelled at in the ER.
I'm so sick of working with the doctor on this pregnancy. This is the week I'm supposed to move to the birthing center and I can't yet. We may be moving and I can't make plans until I know for sure. Everything is on hold, and this is when shit needs to get done. So I'm freaking.
Free-king.
Not to mention? Mr. Aran is out of town until Saturday night. I am not handling this well.
posted by Samus @ 12:46 PM
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