Blacklisted

For every good doctor visit, I guess there has to be a bad one. At my prenatal visit two weeks ago I was seeing someone other than my regular midwife and it didn't go so well. See, I'm in a different hospital than I was when I had Jacob and I'm looking at this whole birth thing in quite a different way as well. I'm seeing a midwife specifically because I want to have more control over my experience.

At my first visit to this new office I arrived armed with a magazine that had an article written by someone who had one of those lovely, natural births for which she made the decisions. This woman talked about how they didn't weigh her at her prenatal visits, they could tell just fine the baby was growing by measuring her stomach thank you very much. Wow. That thought had never occurred to me, that maybe I didn't have to be weighed. I hate being weighed. I haven't weighed myself in years and it's one of those self-preservation things. There used to be a time in my life when the numbers on the scale dictated whether or not I allowed myself to eat that day. So it's much healthier for me to be blissfully unaware.

When I was pregnant with Jacob I turned around on the scale and warned them not to tell me the number. But I let them do it nonetheless because it just never occurred to me to say I didn't want to be weighed all together. But one time I had a different nurse and she slipped and told me the number. That was not a good day for me, and it probably wasn't a good day for Jacob because suddenly I had the weight issue on my mind and not the issue of what was best for my growing baby. That's a dangerous situation to be in if you're a fetus.

So when I went to this new office and told the nurse I didn't want to be weighed she just looked at me like I was an ignorant. "We have to weigh you so we know the baby is growing, dumbhead." I added the italics part, but I could see her thinking it. So when I got to see the midwife a few minutes later I brought it up with her. She's new to the office so she wasn't sure how they'd feel about it there, but she totally understood my point and was in agreement with me. She said she'd check in about it at their next staff meeting.

When she told me at the next visit that she crossed off the line with the weight on my chart and patted me sweetly on the shoulder I started to cry and wanted to hug her. It really means that much to me. It just represents something I can't explain.

For the next visit the nurse led me right on by the scale and I was so happy. The the next visit I was seeing a different midwife. It took 45 minutes at the start of rush hour to get to the hospital,which made me 15 minutes late. Jacob fell asleep and I had to schlep him over my shoulder and carry his butt across the giant parking lot in the 80 degree heat and into the office. When I got up to the counter they told me they might not be able to take me since I was late. I'd never heard of that, and the thought of having to turn around and do the whole thing over again the next day almost made me cry. So they told me to wait while they decided if they were going to be bastards, or take pity on me and my sorry self.

That's when Jacob decided to wake up. He's ordinarily very good in public, except he was hot, tired and apparently hungry. How did I know he was hungry? Well, he told the entire office staff and waiting room in a very loud cry (over and over again) that he was hungry. He cried all the way down the hall when they came to get me, he cried while I was standing at the scale arguing with the nurse that I didn't have to be weighed. I guess this other midwife was against me not being weighed and without Kelly there to defend me they just kept getting snappier. I was beginning to make a scene repeating that I didn't have to be weighed, I had tangible evidence, Kelly wrote it on my chart. Chart shmart they decided. "Please get on the scale." the nurse demanded through gritted teeth. I was hot, tired and needed to attend to my now screaming child so I finally obliged, but to me it felt like such a violation.

I honestly didn't know if I was being a baby or if I had a real case. I couldn't process it then. Looking back on it I kinda feel like no one should be forced to do anything against their will and that I was not in the wrong.

So I got on the scale and that's when I finally burst into tears. And I just kept on crying because of the whole of the situation. I got my visit over with real quick and with Jacob still crying I crept out of the office with my tail between my legs.

So when I was there the other day for my 34 week visit Kelly was back and she'd heard about my last visit. She mostly acted normal through the visit but was really 'careful' with me. My case had come up at a staff meeting, which she said was a good thing because it forced them to talk about the issue of weight, or choice or whatever. She explained to the others that she feels in my case it's in the best interest of the baby for me to not be weighed. I had to make a compromise in order to not be weighed in the future. And at the end of my visit she whispered to me, "I know you wanted to meet the other midwives before you deliver, but you should probably just make the rest of your appointments with me." Oh my God. I keep replaying that in my head. Does it mean she has a soft spot for me, or does it mean that everyone knows about the crazy, crying, scene-making lady and that they've all refused to see me?

Am I on my way to being blacklisted by all the area midwives?