Yesterday evening, I had another appointment with the midwives at the birth center. I spent a good part of the day looking over their website, crying (sobbing, actually) at the birth stories posted by mothers who had previously delivered at the birth center. One story in particular stood out--a couple who found out early on that their child had Trisomy-18, a genetic disorder that results in stillbirth. The couple had planned to deliver at the birthing center, and after deciding not to terminate the pregnancy, chose to continue their care at the center, even knowing that the joy of their child's birth would not be their experience. It was utterly heartbreaking to read the mother's story--going into early labor, hearing her little baby bidding her farewell in utero before passing away, and giving birth to a dead little son. The part that shook me the most was when, in excrutiating emotional and physical pain, all she could utter was "I love the birth center". They were there for her and her husband, giving them space when they needed to grieve, knitting a tiny cap during the labor for the child that would never be, and holding the parents in their hugs and warmth so they'd know there would always be a place for them there. I had to stop reading because I was crying to hard I couldn't look at my coworkers. Instead, I called Adam and cried a little bit more. He held me, albeit over the phone. I really feel like we made the right decision by working with the center.
So, anyway, I went to the appointment at 5pm. I was to give Adam a call once things got underway so that he could listen in and ask any questions that he might have. The midwife Sandra made me a cup of hot tea and then she and Clarice started looking over the homework assignment Adam and I had completed. This consisted of a 10-page questionnaire asking us basic questions, ranging from how we view life to our medical histories (like the fact that we were both over 8 lbs when we were born!) to our perspectives on parenthood. As usual, Adam's answers (ie--"I can't believe my mother delivered a little turkey like me!") elicited laughs from the women; I was just so comfortable and happy to be there, talking about our baby-to-be. After our easy conversation ended, they ushered me into an examination room, where Sandra pressed on my belly to find the margins of my uterus, giggling in the process as she felt Baby Mittman wiggling under her hands. Next, she measured my belly--22 1/2 inches, which is right about right since today I start my 22nd week. Then, they broke out the Doppler so that we could hear the heartbeat. I'm still a little uneasy about these types of machines, as there has been some evidence that the soundwaves from ultrasounds and Dopplers can cause some tissue damage to the fetus. I think at future appointments I'll ask them to use a fetal stethoscope instead. In any case, we could hear the distant beat of the baby's heart almost immediately, but it was continually interrupted by the kicking, punching, and tumbling sounds the baby was making. Clarice's eyes were big as she exclaimed, "You really do have an active one in there!" All I could think that I had a Mittman handball player in the making. Great. I mean, GREAT!
It was only after Clarice put the Doppler away that I remembered I had forgotten to call Adam. I had sunk so easily into the calm of the birth center that ringing him had completely slipped my mind. I called him for the last 5 minutes of the appointment, apologizing the entire time. Luckily he was gracious and forgiving, saying a distant hello to the midwives who shouted greetings his way, and asking for details about the visit. I felt completely absent-minded and awful, but he made me feel better about forgetting. I'm lucky that he's so awesome.
The other, other thing was that they signed me up to start my birthing classes in mid-March. My mother will be here for the second class so she'll come with me, and I look forward to that. Otherwise, I've chosen to go it alone when it comes to the classes. A number of my very sweet and supportive girlfriends have offered to attend them with me, which I really, really appreciate. However, I have found that with Adam being gone, I have no desire to share this experience with anyone other than him (my mum being the only exception). I'd rather go it alone than have someone other than Ads get to be a part of this very private process.
So that's that. Baby Mittman (aka Wee Willie) is strong and forceful, kick-kick-kicking away as I went to bed last night, and back to his/her hijinks again right now, even as I write. I'm really so very excited.
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