Monday, February 20, 2012

Homebirth is frowned upon in MD so I'm planning nice ways to cuss out my midwife now

When I labor, I turn into a giant cat and find myself a nice dark quiet closet to hump air in.  Literally.  Maybe not literally, but when my uterus is contracting and systematically moving my bones aside to push a baby out of a small hole, the absolute last thing I want is another living thing witnessing my vulnerability.  This is why I caved and got an epidural with Violet instead of writhing in pain for hours in the hospital waiting room, and why Leela was almost born in a van.  I wanted to be in my own world where no one could see me or hear me growling.

My ideal childbirth experience is in some magical warm fresh water stream in a two-way mirrored bubble enterable by no one but me, where my hair doesn't get wet and my skin doesn't get cold, and there's no blood or womb juice, and it's sound proof both ways so I don't have to hear anyone say "Wow, you're still pregnant?!", and when the baby and I get out we're somehow dry and clothed automatically.

My second favorite birth would be at home in my bed, completely alone.  With no one even in the house.  Or they can be in the living room if they have to be, but silent.  Or I'd kill them.  Oh and again, I'd have that magical no blood and no fluid thing going on.

The birth I will have though will be in a hospital with lots of lights and shit beeping and probably some wires and most likely some people.  Unfortunately, my insurance is too good, and I don't pay a single penny to spit out a baby.  No hospital deductible, no physician fees, not even a co-pay at my midwife appointments.  (Sidenote:  Baby-making is free, but I have to pay $80 a year for birth control, if I ever decide to start using it.  Hm.)

I also have horrible anxiety over people being in my house for some reason.  I always imagine I'm going to have a crowd of people gathered in one room and one of the neighbor's dogs is going to climb in through my bedroom window and gather up the biggest, holiest underwear he can find in my underwear drawer, a voice recorded diary on top volume where I talk about all things gossipy and bitchy and raunchy (that I don't actually have, but such a thing exists in my imagination), and a 3 foot double dong hanging from a sex swing (... that I also don't have, *eh hem*).  So I wouldn't be able to relax my whole labor and delivery knowing my midwife might find something embarrassing or incriminating.

Anyway, even if insurance and anxiety weren't an issue, I still wouldn't be able to have a home birth because Maryland hates women.  Certified Nurse Midwives are the only care providers legally allowed to attend a home birth in this state, and do you know how many of those there are willing to do that here?  A whopping two from what I have been able to find.  There's also a handful of Certified Professional Midwives who practice in the state incognito, but from what I've gathered they's 'spensive, and there's only so many of them to go around.

So that puts me back in the hospital!  I decided I don't want to labor in the back seat of my van again this time, and I'd really like the chance to get inside that birthing tub and labor like an astronaut, so I'll be meeting my midwife at this hospital much sooner than absolute-freakin-last-minute this time.  This presents a new set of challenges.  How do I nicely tell my midwife what I want when I'm in the middle of a full body implosion? Here's my list so far:

ALONE PLEASE = I can't have any distractions in the room for this contraction

HANDS ARE COLD = Please don't touch me because I'm creeped out by human touch

SMELL MAKING ME SICK = Who the hell do you think you are eating in front of me when I'm pushing a person out of my nethers?

NEED SNACK = I need you out of my life for the 10 minutes it takes you to retrieve a snack

NEED QUIET = If you don't fucking stop talking to me I'm going to birth this baby directly down your throat

MUST KEEP MOVING = This shit hurts and I can't sit still, and you do not need to check my progress bitch because I assure you I feel progress being made

EVERY SINGLE PERSON NEEDS TO LEAVE THE ROOM FOR HALF AN HOUR = I'm in transition and if you stay here I will literally scream so hard your soul will melt

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