Thursday, November 23, 2006

Temptation

Yesterday, Little Miss and I went to see Dr. Kate. The novelty of these appointments is starting to wear thin, because inevitably they take five minutes - pee in a cup, check weight and blood pressure and Little Miss's heartrate, and that's it - yet they're always preceded by a wait of at least half an hour to get in. Arggh. Anyway, the good news yesterday was that the doctor has reviewed our diagnostic ultrasound and found everything to be in order. And the other news (that confirmed something I already suspected) was that I found out I have an anterior placenta. Which doesn't mean anything bad, but explains why I have felt a lot less movement from Little Miss than Little Mister.

Right before my appointment Chad reminded me of a question I'd been meaning to ask Dr. Kate for some time. So I mentioned the rumours I had been hearing of late, and confirmed with her that, right in time for the 21st century, my local hospital has joined the 20th: it now offers epidurals. They may be as much a part of life as sliced bread for many of you, but our city has had a chronic anaesthesiologist shortage for years, and as a result routine epidurals haven't been an option on the childbirth menu. Before I got pregnant with Liam I always assumed I would go elsewhere to deliver for that very reason, and I did ask about the option. Dr. Kate is a very crunchy, wholesome kind of doctor, and I expected to be given the hairy eyeball for even bringing the subject up. Not so. Instead, I found out that she is an Epidural Enabler. No sooner was the question out of my mouth than she was scribbling a referral on one of her medical pads and saying that about half of all her patients do indeed go elsewhere to deliver. In the end I stuck around, Dr. Kate delivered, and I couldn't have been happier with the outcome.

As a result, I want to do everything the second time around The Exact Same Way. So I have already told Chad that I don't want an epidural, and don't let me cave in and have one, unless I really want one, and then by all means give it to me. (How do you quantify exactly how much resistance you want those around you to provide when you are unable to think clearly on your own? - because I know it's very easy for me to say I don't want one now, but give me another 23-hour labour, and I will give you the very reason why the epidural was invented.) Maybe time will tell that I would have been better off not asking and just assuming that I couldn't have one. Maybe I will have one with Little Miss, and decide I was totally crazy for not having given myself the option to have one with Little Mister. Somehow it seemed so much easier when it wasn't even an option. Maybe I will need to find an even smaller city with an even smaller hospital to give birth in this time around, to have the matter settled for me.

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