Intake
So you have to love the Mr. Forty amirite? He’s posting these beautiful spiritually insightful thoughts about the magnitude of becoming parents and the legacy that we leave and the responsibilities we must accept.
Me? I’m telling you that my boobs are sore and that I just want to sleep all the time.
We, uh, we balance each other out.
I did go to the doctor today, I figure that’s noteworthy. It was called an “intake visit” which for some reason keeps bringing up a vision of a large pipe near an indoor pool… after hours. Kind of like the place where Moriarty confronts Sherlock.
I should preface this with the fact that I am a big Sherlock fan… no wait… that’s not the preface. The preface is that I am not a fan of modern medicine. I’m not good at being helpless. I always like to find some way that I can contribute or be proactive in my own well-being. I find that modern medicine often expects (and sometimes requires) a passive patient.
I’m a lot of things, but I am not passive.
And frankly, there’s nothing more active in the entire world than the act of giving birth. That’s a full contact sport if ever there was one. Yet, I hear stories from my girlfriends of very passive expectations of the birth process. Fortunately, all of their stories have happy endings with the arrival of beautiful, healthy, strong babies, but I still hear the story in between the stories. Stories that are peppered with “I told them something wasn’t right,” “I don’t really think they had to do that, but it was safer,” “Well, it was taking long so they went ahead with a Cesarean.”
Those kinds of things make my blood boil. I get it too, I really do. We’re a litigious society and obstetrics is an emotionally fraught specialty and the only one where you can lose two patients in one moment. I understand erring on the side of caution. But sometimes the erring is just that – an error. Harm can be done when one interferes too much with the process. The human body is an amazing thing. And maybe that’s the problem too. For instance, I know my body really well. Maybe more than most women, I don’t know, I don’t live in their bodies. But I knew somethin’ in my girl parts was different a week after what I’ve realized was our conception date.
To that, I would really like a birth plan that leaves nature to its own devices. I’m going natural and I’m pretty sure I’m going to be just fine.
Oh you? You rolling your eyes, yeah you! And you? Laughing, yeah you! Hey ladies, let me ask you this,
How many kidney stones have you passed?
How many of them should have required surgery?
How many stents have you had in your urethra?
How many corneas have you ulcerated?
Here’s the thing. I’ve passed (to date) about five or six kidney stones (I’ve honestly lost real count) and I’ve had surgery to remove two. (Hence, I’ve had two stents in my urethra for about two weeks after each surgery – it’s as pleasant as you might imagine). I’ve also ulcerated both of my corneas. Once from a bad contact, once from bad contact solution.
These conditions are known as “acute” pain. Childbirth is often placed in context of these two highly visceral pains. So I’ve had acute pain and I know how to manage it. I know how to breathe, meditate, transcend, and see through acute pain – and I didn’t get acute kid at the end of it.
(See what I did there? I made a joke… NOW you can laugh).
I’m also pretty active. In fact, going back to my doctor’s appointment today, after she took my blood pressure and pulse she looked at me and said, “Runner?” and I nodded in the affirmative.
“That looks a little high for me,” I said. My BP was 130/72 and my HR was 80.
“You’re going to be a little higher since you’re pregnant, I get women in here with resting heart rates of 100. Yours is so low I figured you were a runner or some kind of an athlete.”
And that’s when I realized the sad truth of what we have become as a society: The labor process can be passive because we allow ourselves to be passive with our bodies. We don’t take care of our bodies and then we stick life in there and we’re not in any shape to bring that life into the world naturally because we don’t do anything naturally anymore.
This isn’t a high horse, it really isn’t. I drink (not right now, calm down) beer, I’ve been known to mooch a cigarette (or several), I love chicken wings with a passion that I reserve for my husband and little else. I’m not the “healthiest” person I know. I’m not even the fourth or fifth healthiest person I know. I have never met a cheese I didn’t like. I believe oysters should be slurped year round, so long as they are accompanied by a medicinal shot of tequila (or two). Up until a few weeks ago I drank coffee all day long. I guess the difference is, I really love my body. Like really really love it. I love its flaws and shortcomings as well as its strengths and beauty. I check in with it every day. I listen to it constantly. I know when I need to slow down, speed up, eat less, eat more, have some kale, etc. I’m active with my body.
Maybe it comes from being so sick with my kidneys for so long. I don’t know.
“You may be experiencing some cramping,” the nurse says to me today.
“Oh yeah, but it’s not bad. Things are moving rapidly around in there. I’m growing a blueberry in there this week – that takes some stretching.”
She laughed. I politely laughed when she took my age and called me an “old geezer.”
I remarked that I was happy to play through on the back nine of this course.
I’m opting for ALL THE TESTS because I am older. I just hope that the universe rewards the fact that I am now financially secure, emotionally stable, and well partnered with a healthy output. Frankly, it sucks that the best time in a woman’s life to conceive and deliver a healthy baby often conflicts with Prom.
We talked about natural birth (and the nurse agreed that with my past history I’m a fine candidate for a natural birth plan), I am comfortable with the Cesarian rate and I like the options offered by the birthing center (birthing balls is a term I’m just going to have to get used to btw, because every time somebody says it to me I start to giggle).
My follow up is next week and I get a pap smear! Can’t wait!
Until then, “Blueberry” and I are just gonna float and continue growing.
You are inspiring in your body love/knowledge/connection. much love!