Saturday, July 07, 2007
OH BABY
Time to let the cat out of the bag. Well, okay, I'm actually hoping to keep the cat...er...baby in the bag awhile yet. But I've had visual confirmation via a scan that this baby exists and at 15 weeks I'm out of the danger zone, so I finally feel free to write about the experience of double-dipping into the Mamahood jar.
First of all, let me just say - those condoms really do work. I know this because apparently I got pregnant about 12 seconds after we decided to stop using condoms even though we weren't quite ready to conceive yet ('cause hey, it took 8 months the first time, so we figured we had a little leeway.) But being pregnant seems to be like riding a bicycle - once your body has done it, there is no prep time required to do it again.
Like much else in life, the second time around isn't quite the thrill ride that the first was. It's also not as scary. While I did still entertain a persistent first trimester dread that the zygote wouldn't stick around to develop into a charmingly little long-tailed lizard, in most other regards it was fine and totally manageable. Sure, I was exhausted and a little queasy and emotionally volatile and exceptionally stupid for about 3 months, but other than that the first phase was no big deal. Also, since I am now living in the land of socialized medicine, I didn't even see a doctor for the first time until last week - so in a sense my pregnancy has been off the radar up until now.
But now I am on the radar, and now begins the struggle and scrape to choose when and how I will perform the big push. I've been fairly interested in having a homebirth, given that a) I had a great birth the first time around and b) I've heard lots of unpleasant stories from local mums about their experiences in NHS hospitals. But apparently if I go this route, the state has no obligation to provide me with a midwife to assist me. They might send somebody if they feel like it on the big day, but then again they might be too busy. This apparent indifference to my birthing preference appears to be largely economically motivated. In the hospital, one midwife can attend up to 5 women at a given time. At home, two midwives are required to be present and they must stay with the woman for the entire duration of her labor. So, obviously, you can pump out a lot more bambinos a lot quicker in a hospital setting. Which is my big problem with hospitals in the first place - the time pressure. Clock watching tends to lead to icky interventions like forcepts and vacuum extraction and caesareans. Apparently 100 years ago, 90% of women gave birth at home in this country. Now it is less than 2%. Amazing how times change. If I was poor, teenaged, or crazy, I would have a better shot at being assigned a homebirth midwife team. But since I am healthy and middle-class, my desires about how my health is managed are of little interest to NHS. I could hire an independent midwife to assist me with the birthing process - apparently they are terrific and even better trained than the NHS midwives - but it would cost us about $6,000 out of pocket. This option is a) financially impossible for us and b) kind of absurd in a country where allegedly the healthcare is free.
So, I'm trying to be patient - a good practice given that I am still less than halfway through my pregnancy. Being pregnant provides the ultimate opportunity to get comfortable with waiting - which is I think one of the secrets to being a happy and fulfilled person. We are so used to being in control, to exerting our agency and influence - it is quite a shock to discover that in some circumstances the best and only thing that can be done is to wait. And I still remember a key lesson I learned in my first pregnancy - the reason it takes 10 months to grow a baby is that it takes the baby's parents that long to really believe in the baby - as a fully fleshed individual entity, not just an idea or a lifestyle prop. It is starting to dawn on me in small ways that another human being is coming to live in our house and that everything we have chosen or planned for our lives is about to change. We don't know if this person will be male or female. We don't know if s/he will be mellow or intense. We don't know if s/he will be sick or healthy. And all those unknowns stir up flocks of other unknowns - where will we be living in 6 months (our lease is technically up December 6th), when will I work again, what will life be like in 5 years (with a 4 year old and a 7 year old), in 10 years (with a 9 year old and a 12 year old), in 20?
Accepting the impermanence of life - that is one of the central goals of Buddhism. Well, I think having babies is one of the most tangible expressions of Buddhism there is - it's all about the unknown and lifes' cycle of constant change. It's all about giving up your ego and acknowledging that you have no control over anything. It's all about the present moment - which today - at this moment - is very good: the sun is shining (after 14 straight days of rain), I went for a power-walk this morning (I finally feel well enough to exercise), and I've had enough time alone to both read and write this blog. I hope the moment is good for you too.
Be well.
Time to let the cat out of the bag. Well, okay, I'm actually hoping to keep the cat...er...baby in the bag awhile yet. But I've had visual confirmation via a scan that this baby exists and at 15 weeks I'm out of the danger zone, so I finally feel free to write about the experience of double-dipping into the Mamahood jar.
First of all, let me just say - those condoms really do work. I know this because apparently I got pregnant about 12 seconds after we decided to stop using condoms even though we weren't quite ready to conceive yet ('cause hey, it took 8 months the first time, so we figured we had a little leeway.) But being pregnant seems to be like riding a bicycle - once your body has done it, there is no prep time required to do it again.
Like much else in life, the second time around isn't quite the thrill ride that the first was. It's also not as scary. While I did still entertain a persistent first trimester dread that the zygote wouldn't stick around to develop into a charmingly little long-tailed lizard, in most other regards it was fine and totally manageable. Sure, I was exhausted and a little queasy and emotionally volatile and exceptionally stupid for about 3 months, but other than that the first phase was no big deal. Also, since I am now living in the land of socialized medicine, I didn't even see a doctor for the first time until last week - so in a sense my pregnancy has been off the radar up until now.
But now I am on the radar, and now begins the struggle and scrape to choose when and how I will perform the big push. I've been fairly interested in having a homebirth, given that a) I had a great birth the first time around and b) I've heard lots of unpleasant stories from local mums about their experiences in NHS hospitals. But apparently if I go this route, the state has no obligation to provide me with a midwife to assist me. They might send somebody if they feel like it on the big day, but then again they might be too busy. This apparent indifference to my birthing preference appears to be largely economically motivated. In the hospital, one midwife can attend up to 5 women at a given time. At home, two midwives are required to be present and they must stay with the woman for the entire duration of her labor. So, obviously, you can pump out a lot more bambinos a lot quicker in a hospital setting. Which is my big problem with hospitals in the first place - the time pressure. Clock watching tends to lead to icky interventions like forcepts and vacuum extraction and caesareans. Apparently 100 years ago, 90% of women gave birth at home in this country. Now it is less than 2%. Amazing how times change. If I was poor, teenaged, or crazy, I would have a better shot at being assigned a homebirth midwife team. But since I am healthy and middle-class, my desires about how my health is managed are of little interest to NHS. I could hire an independent midwife to assist me with the birthing process - apparently they are terrific and even better trained than the NHS midwives - but it would cost us about $6,000 out of pocket. This option is a) financially impossible for us and b) kind of absurd in a country where allegedly the healthcare is free.
So, I'm trying to be patient - a good practice given that I am still less than halfway through my pregnancy. Being pregnant provides the ultimate opportunity to get comfortable with waiting - which is I think one of the secrets to being a happy and fulfilled person. We are so used to being in control, to exerting our agency and influence - it is quite a shock to discover that in some circumstances the best and only thing that can be done is to wait. And I still remember a key lesson I learned in my first pregnancy - the reason it takes 10 months to grow a baby is that it takes the baby's parents that long to really believe in the baby - as a fully fleshed individual entity, not just an idea or a lifestyle prop. It is starting to dawn on me in small ways that another human being is coming to live in our house and that everything we have chosen or planned for our lives is about to change. We don't know if this person will be male or female. We don't know if s/he will be mellow or intense. We don't know if s/he will be sick or healthy. And all those unknowns stir up flocks of other unknowns - where will we be living in 6 months (our lease is technically up December 6th), when will I work again, what will life be like in 5 years (with a 4 year old and a 7 year old), in 10 years (with a 9 year old and a 12 year old), in 20?
Accepting the impermanence of life - that is one of the central goals of Buddhism. Well, I think having babies is one of the most tangible expressions of Buddhism there is - it's all about the unknown and lifes' cycle of constant change. It's all about giving up your ego and acknowledging that you have no control over anything. It's all about the present moment - which today - at this moment - is very good: the sun is shining (after 14 straight days of rain), I went for a power-walk this morning (I finally feel well enough to exercise), and I've had enough time alone to both read and write this blog. I hope the moment is good for you too.
Be well.
Labels: birth, Faith, Mamahood
