Great Expectations: Heather @ 14 weeks

 

Looking back, years from now, I don't imagine recalling much more of this last phase than my words to my husband as I left the bathroom I'm going back to bed. Let me know if that other line disappears followed by a few happy, disbelieving days, and then weeks of a fatigued and starving haze. Aches and pains. Zero mental clarity. Maybe it's best to leave it that way. Still, I thought it would be nice to celebrate progress with a look back at the highlights of the first trimester.

 

 

There are a lot of sweet and precious things on the list: seeing a heartbeat and stretching legs; Preston's goofy grins, and how he came over to hold my hand at my first appointment; the kind, Christian women volunteering at the center for pregnant women who verified my pregnancy and offered much love and helpful information; my mother coming back from shopping trips with little baby gifts, and the large tally board my teenage sisters filled out after asking all their friends and the family what they thought I was having.

 

There were also some big concerns for me. In fact, they dominate the view in hindsight. It IS a time of worry, for many women. This seems to be why we have birth month forums. I'll skip the typical anxieties, like I forgot and ----; did I kill my baby? and are these cramps normal?, and talk about the two most impactful issues I've faced.

 

#1: Choosing a Care Provider

Congratulations!!! Call your doctor. Thus reads every pregnancy guide I have seen so far. I have to admit, I didn't do it for almost a month. Not because I'm careless, mind you. Too much the opposite.

 

I've read about the options: OBGYN, CNM, CPM, LDEM& I know the qualifications of each and the needs they are best equipped to fill. The question is: how do I understand my needs before my first appointment? How do I know if I'll like someone? And is what I want even available here?

 

I love my home area. We have a nice hospital, fairly well equipped, staffed with wonderful people and family friends, with a cesarean rate of only 18%. We have a growing base of homebirth moms, a few midwives to choose from, and I think even a small birth center nearby. Still, when it comes to good old Cache Valley, Utah, I wasn't able to find what felt right for me this time. The two CNMs nearby do not deliver; whether by personal preference or because of outside pressure, I'm not sure. Relations between the OB and natural or home birth communities have been heard to be a little prickly at times. There are exceptions to this, I'm told. I probably could have made it work with few problems, but I didn't want to take the risk and try to negotiate all of that my first time around.

 

I am facing a little family pressure to deliver in hospital. I'm ok with this, because they are generally very supportive of my opinions on this subject. I understand their feelings; without medical technology my mother never would have had children, and may not have even survived the attempt. While that doesn't have to be me too, I could use a little extra reassurance this time. Also, I want to better understand the environment of hospital birth. I actually want to have experienced it, as well as at a birth center and at home.

So it took me a few extra weeks to sort out my feelings and make an appointment. My solution has been to drive about an hour to where I found a highly recommended nurse midwife for a hospital delivery. The first appointment was pleasant. She listened to my concerns and thought that even with my situation we could work very well together. What a relief. Preston was very impressed by her as well. I am sad to be going so far away, but I hope that my choice will be making the statement that Cache Valley women would benefit from a greater variety of care. Soon, I think, we will begin to see a rewarding development of my local birth community.

 

#2: Diet and NutritionThis has been the most miserable subject of my pregnancy so far. I had one craving, and that was never to have to eat again. I suspect that the real nausea only lasted a few weeks. That was when I was forced to admit I had a bigger problem.

 

During the months of struggle before my PCOS diagnosis, I realized the horrifying state of today's food industry. I swore off highly processed foods, added sugar, soy products, vegetable oils. My black list went all the way down to packaged bread and unfiltered tap water. This can be a sensible way to live when you cook from scratch and are open to trying many new flavors. Add nausea, heat/smell intolerance, and a deep-seated fear of gestational diabetes to the mix and it all goes out the window. So I would wait until I couldn't ignore the raging starvation and roam the kitchen, needing to eat NOW but unable to pick up anything I saw: looks disgusting, too many carbs, bad ingredients, probably GMO.

 

My mantra became food makes me sick.' I chanted it to myself constantly. My soul was full of hate.

 

Until I hit about 10 weeks. Something about seeing that live and wiggly little body for the first time softened my fear. I hadn't killed it yet, either from starvation or bad food. And I couldn't live this way anymore. I found out I had lost as much as six pounds. I was getting up five to ten times a night to choke down small pieces of food and fend off the pain.

 

Food and I had to become friends again. So I loosened up, a lot. I decided to eat whatever I wanted, if only a few bites. Meat is my odd new favorite, and my key to contentment through most of the night. I'm sneaking it and vegetables into my meals with greater success each day. Even now, I still have hard days, but I'm working to be patient with myself. I could be doing much worse.

 

Fortunately now, these concerns are nearly resolved and I'm starting to feel settled in and ready to begin preparing for birth and the months to follow. I had my first moment of impatience today, thinking of holding and comforting a baby. I want to know how mine will look, sound, and act. Until then, I'm trying to relax and give this new life a peaceful and happy beginning. Three months down. Six more to go.