A Whole New Level of Beurocracy

I should have known that it was going to be a very long morning, when I got on the bus to go into town, to have an ultra-sound and fetal monitoring, and the bus made an entire tour of the city, due to the construction downtown; the bus' final stop was the Central Bus Station, and I was forced to walk another 15 minutes back towards the Mahane Yehuda market, to get to the medical center.

Hadassah Hospital, where I conducted my fertility treatments and follow up appointments, seemed much more organized than my HMO. First of all, I had five different stations today: Monitoring, Ultra-Sound, Urine testing, blood pressure and a doctor's consultation. At no time was there an order assigned, and so at each location, tense fighting broke out among the women mulling around; "I was here first." "I have a scheduled appointment." "I am in my 41rst week and considered an emergency." (That would be me!) "I am due in three weeks but am considered a high risk pregnancy, because I have twins."

I didn't need that stress.

While sitting on the extremely comfortable easy chair during the fetal monitoring, the baby slept, happy after the walk and exercise I did to get to the clinic. To wake her up, they gave me these disgustingly healthy (even for me) sesame cookies, which certainly caused movement but also gave me nausea. If I have to go back, I will bring grapes and water from home, maybe a whole picnic, as I ended up spending most of the morning there.

In my consultation with the doctor, he requested that I come back for the same round of testing on Thursday, assuming I have not yet gone into labour. He plans on doing stripping, which he has already warned, is painful. (I bought Castor Oil today, and will only use it instead of the stripping on Thursday. I prefer diarrhea to invasive vaginal and pelvic pain.)

And he told me that when my water breaks, I am to rush immediately to the hospital, as there is an increased concern regarding infection with overdue (Week 41-42) women. My doula disagrees, and has said that if the water breaks and it is clear, there is every reason to labour in the comforts of home, until the contractions are approximately four minutes apart.

If nothing happens over the weekend as a result of various minor interventions, they will send me to the hospital to be induced medically next week. Meanwhile, I am meant to "walk a lot" (hasn't worked) and engage in "lots of loving."

To top off the morning, I received a call from a particularly obnoxious patient, who spent five minutes yelling at me because I hadn't kept her informed of my progress or lack thereof, and who spent much time telling me that it is my "fault" that the baby has not yet checked out of Hotel Uterus.

So glad I stopped working before Rosh Hashana, any inner strength I have left must get me through this next week.

My major emotional hurdle right now involves realizing and remembering my faith, that G-d and this baby will decide when it is time; and trying not to be angry on some irrational level at the baby for staying inside. It comes from love and wanting to meet her (95%), and I will admit, impatience (5%, but that's a powerful 5%).

On a whole other level, even though it is of a much lesser concern right now, my parents have plane tickets for next week, Chol Hamoed Succot. Booked on the assumption that the baby will have already been born, and I will have had time to recover in the Baby Hotel, I can't imagine how much more tense it will be with three family members waiting for her arrival, instead of one.