Yesterday I went for a size estimate ultrasound. Because, as a card carrying member of Fat Chick, I get all kinds of hassle from doctors. Everything from hangnails to severed appendages is Because You Are A Bigger Woman. I love how they can't say fat, and my current dr always makes a little rounded motion with his hands in front of him when he says that. And they always say it with a tone that says "you know... no offense, but I'm sure you know..." well I do, but I still don't appreciate that. ANYWAY this makes birth so much harder because they use fatundity to weasel many ludicrious things of me, such as constant internal fetal monitoring, and "you must stay on that bed" and "no you cannot deliver in anything but the standard lying down position - oh, and wear this oxygen mask, it makes you look sexy." Granted we apparently make OMGXBOGHUEG!!11! babies. The last two just sneaked under 9lbs. But they were both very long. But I digress. This one feels larger. I'm scared they may be right. (For the record, My husband has a huge head, and was a huge baby. Blame him.)
I am not exactly happy with my current position in prenatal care, but there's nothing I can really do about it at this point. The practice is totally different than it was when I first joined it. I am asking too much to have a "relationship" with my provider. There are no midwives around here. There are CNM's who work out of OB/GYN offices, but because I'm a lardass I'm required to see the real doctor. I'm not sure if this is standard or just typical small-town closed-mindedness. So I go every week to an appointment I totally dread with a doctor who can't remember anything about me, and doesn't care, who is rushing out the door for the next patient after 3 minutes max with me. I gues I kind of wanted to experience that closeness that other people talk about. And to have the support of a birth going smoothly and stress free without being told to do this, that and the other thing. I am trying to make up what I want, but I wish I had that support behind me.. other than a husband who says "sure, whatever you want." but will totally bow to what a DOCTOR says because his family is doctors and doctors are god.
However I decided way back in March that I was going to do whatever I wanted with this pregnancy, I was going to TAKE AND TAKE AND TAKE instead of being meek and obedient (oh, hell, when am I ever either of those?) This goes for everything from prenatal care, to the whole Time In The Hospital to how much crap I'm willing to handle from people, the whole gamut, not just health care but socially and post-baby as well. By that I mean, I will not be driving 3 hours with a 2 month odl and spending Christmas hiding in my MIL's bedroom nursing a baby while my children open their gifts without me because no one could wait 20 minutes.
But now I'm playing a game. I will take your silly little ultrasound, and I'll let you do a GBS test even though you and I know full well that I'm going to get antibiotics during labor whether I am positive or not (because I'm Fat, and fat.. breeds.. bacteria??) But anyway, the reason I went, even though I'm planning on kicking ass and taking names, is because I'm picking my battles. I don't want to be a difficult patient. I want to be one they will never ever suspect. And when labor comes? BAM!
So the tech was kind of bitchy and just like with the last ultrasound I went there for, I left feeling kind of depressed and underwhelmed with something that should have been at least a little fun and cute. And I still have no idea whether she thinks I'm harboring a Far Side baby in there. However judging by the fact that the head was way low (she had the wand pushing on my pubic bone. ouch. Never had one that low.) and the legs were up somewhere past my bra band... I am guessing this one is pretty long.
But at least he/she's cute.
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We have not gotten one step further on The Name Game, so I can't report on that just yet, but I will. I kind of think the picture might make things a little easier.
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The other day I spent way too much money at Old Navy buying clothes for the children, jeans and socks for the husband, and shirts for myself, since... damn.. I have no shirts. I wear the same 3 perfect tees every day and they are
kind of embarrassingly short to be honest. And I got myself some long sleeved shirts for the fall/winter. But anyway I can't just do this in ONE trip, I have to make SEVERAL visits to the site before I'm done ordering what I'm going to order. I want shipping discounts, dammit. One package arrived yesterday, Another package is due to arrive today. Except when I tracked it, I got this:
THE PACKAGE IS DELAYED DUE TO EMERGENCY CONDITIONS BEYOND UPS' CONTROLI felt a little thrill, I mean nothing exciting and emergent ever happens to me.* Does this mean the truck crashed and burned? That the driver drove off a cliff or hit a bus full of AC bound seniors with a gambling problem? Beamed up inside a UFO? Hopelessly lost?
Of course, it's a nice day out, so maybe he just decided to say "screw you!" to work and go out and play. The mailman does that. You know how I can tell? Rainy day? get mail at usual time.. Exceptionally nice for the first time in a few days, day? Mail is here by 9am.
Either that or he ran out of gas or something really really dumb.
*not that I necessarily want it to.
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