In my line of work, I hear a lot of stories about a lot of families. Even those clients of mine who have figured out that I am pregnant, they come in with stories of horror about their daughter's miscarriage, told in all its gory detail. Or I have other clients who have special needs children, who share the intimate facts about how difficult it is to raise a Downs Syndrome son or daughter, how it is ruining their marriage and perspective on life, how they expect their son or daughter to always need diapers and constant care and supervision into adulthood.
The doctor part of me has learned how to listen and how to sympathize with their stress. The pregnant woman part of me wants to gag them as soon as they start talking, because it feeds into my most basic fears about my own daughter. I believe my doctors when they say that she is thank G-d healthy, and yet, there are days when I want to run screaming from my office.
If someone guaranteed me, right this moment, that I would not have to worry about making a living and paying bills for the next year, I would close my office tomorrow morning, and settle into a routine of support and calm for the rest of this pregnancy.
And please keep the birth horror stories to yourself.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Observations
As I enter my 25th week, I observe that my belly button has become quite...deep...it almost looks scary. I feel as if I stuck my finger all the way inside, I could touch the baby. I suppose it is still better than becoming an "outie," though that may happen as well. As long as my feet don't expand; my size 11 feet are hard enough to fit fashionably as it is.
Plus, my breast are huge, and seem to be growing every day.
Today I went on my first outing to a baby supply store, with my friend Michal and her partner Yael. Yael it seems has done serious research about the various products available, and had a huge list of questions for the saleswoman about package deals, strollers, and the materials from which the cribs and dressers are made.
I personally felt overwhelmed by the experience, and understood that my idea of waiting to look at the big ticket items only after the birth is naive at the very least. Part of me does not want to tempt fate by ordering baby supplies before the birth, but after today, I realize that I must give it more thought.
Plus, my breast are huge, and seem to be growing every day.
Today I went on my first outing to a baby supply store, with my friend Michal and her partner Yael. Yael it seems has done serious research about the various products available, and had a huge list of questions for the saleswoman about package deals, strollers, and the materials from which the cribs and dressers are made.
I personally felt overwhelmed by the experience, and understood that my idea of waiting to look at the big ticket items only after the birth is naive at the very least. Part of me does not want to tempt fate by ordering baby supplies before the birth, but after today, I realize that I must give it more thought.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
More Shifting Priorities
I have been serving on the Executive Board of the Israel Chiropractic Society for the last four years, because I felt that you can only really make a difference from the inside. Other than an amusing and major temper tantrum by one of the board members last night, I realized that not only have I not made a difference to the quality and acceptance of Chiropractic in Israel, but that since I have become pregnant, I don't care as much.
In fact, while I enjoy most of my work days, when a client starts whining and I have not slept the night before because this baby is a constant swimmer (rather than a kicker), I find that I have limited patience (excuse the pun) for my job. I want to reserve all the energy I have, emotional and physical, for this child growing inside me. I can also say that if someone walked into my house right now and offered me complete financial security, I would close the office today, and spend the rest of my life taking care of this baby, traveling and fostering the creative side in me that has become quite dormant.
By the time the next board meeting happens in late July, I will have resigned my post, using the pregnancy as an excuse of course, but there is a deeper reason: I have always believed that in order for my life to have some meaning, I want to leave the world a better place than it was when I arrived. I am simply not sure anymore that the ideal venue is via my career. (For that heretical statement, I just may be banished from the Barnard alumnae list...)
Today was a perfect case-in-point: a patient who has consistently not been returning my phone calls for the last six months called today, saying that he "did something" to his neck and had to be treated today, right away. I replied in a professional and kind manner, saying that I had a full schedule and could either put him on a waiting list, or recommend a colleague.
One hour later, he called back, "Well, did anyone cancel?" Again I answered politely, saying that if he had not heard from me, then the answer was no. He took on a condescending and impatient tone, and said, "Is this a money thing? Because I will make it worth your while, I will pay you extra to see me later tonight."
I lost it, and though some inner voice wanted to simply say, "Fuck you," and hang up, instead I said in a voice most like a displeased nursery school teacher: "Here's the truth, I am in my sixth month of pregnancy and am working a seven hour day already today, after going to sleep last night after midnight because of a stupid meeting. I have to think of myself, my baby, and the fact that you do not want me to treat you when I am exhausted. This has nothing to do with money. Furthermore, I want to make it very clear that if you do not hear from me today, it means that you did not get off the waiting list and I do not want to hear from you."
My Israeli friends applauded me, saying that it was maybe a 5/10 on the "Mean Meter," and that I must think about myself and this life growing inside me. My greater fear is that my clients will not respect the time I plan on spending with my child after the birth, because after all, their pain comes before my right to live my life. (NOT!)
In fact, while I enjoy most of my work days, when a client starts whining and I have not slept the night before because this baby is a constant swimmer (rather than a kicker), I find that I have limited patience (excuse the pun) for my job. I want to reserve all the energy I have, emotional and physical, for this child growing inside me. I can also say that if someone walked into my house right now and offered me complete financial security, I would close the office today, and spend the rest of my life taking care of this baby, traveling and fostering the creative side in me that has become quite dormant.
By the time the next board meeting happens in late July, I will have resigned my post, using the pregnancy as an excuse of course, but there is a deeper reason: I have always believed that in order for my life to have some meaning, I want to leave the world a better place than it was when I arrived. I am simply not sure anymore that the ideal venue is via my career. (For that heretical statement, I just may be banished from the Barnard alumnae list...)
Today was a perfect case-in-point: a patient who has consistently not been returning my phone calls for the last six months called today, saying that he "did something" to his neck and had to be treated today, right away. I replied in a professional and kind manner, saying that I had a full schedule and could either put him on a waiting list, or recommend a colleague.
One hour later, he called back, "Well, did anyone cancel?" Again I answered politely, saying that if he had not heard from me, then the answer was no. He took on a condescending and impatient tone, and said, "Is this a money thing? Because I will make it worth your while, I will pay you extra to see me later tonight."
I lost it, and though some inner voice wanted to simply say, "Fuck you," and hang up, instead I said in a voice most like a displeased nursery school teacher: "Here's the truth, I am in my sixth month of pregnancy and am working a seven hour day already today, after going to sleep last night after midnight because of a stupid meeting. I have to think of myself, my baby, and the fact that you do not want me to treat you when I am exhausted. This has nothing to do with money. Furthermore, I want to make it very clear that if you do not hear from me today, it means that you did not get off the waiting list and I do not want to hear from you."
My Israeli friends applauded me, saying that it was maybe a 5/10 on the "Mean Meter," and that I must think about myself and this life growing inside me. My greater fear is that my clients will not respect the time I plan on spending with my child after the birth, because after all, their pain comes before my right to live my life. (NOT!)
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
New Friends
Even two years ago, when I started researching the topic of pregnancy and single-motherhood, I was astounded to find out that within Jerusalem, there exists quite a large group of single mothers by choice.
I have only recently begun to truly appreciate that phenomenon and support, having made friends with two women, one who gave birth to a little girl only two and a half months ago, and another who gave birth to a girl about three and a half years ago. Not only do I enjoy hearing the joy in their voices, the stories of the enrichment that becoming a mother has brought them. I also can finally speak to people who have undergone very similar experiences, from the fertility treatments, to dealing with their families and community; and hearing a preview of sorts of what I can expect in approximately three and a half months, when I am due to give birth.
I have had trouble as an adult making new friends, and it has been a while since I spent a solid two hours on the phone with a girl friend. I love that feeling that not only am I living outside the traditional box, but that I have a whole group of amazing women living there with me.
I have only recently begun to truly appreciate that phenomenon and support, having made friends with two women, one who gave birth to a little girl only two and a half months ago, and another who gave birth to a girl about three and a half years ago. Not only do I enjoy hearing the joy in their voices, the stories of the enrichment that becoming a mother has brought them. I also can finally speak to people who have undergone very similar experiences, from the fertility treatments, to dealing with their families and community; and hearing a preview of sorts of what I can expect in approximately three and a half months, when I am due to give birth.
I have had trouble as an adult making new friends, and it has been a while since I spent a solid two hours on the phone with a girl friend. I love that feeling that not only am I living outside the traditional box, but that I have a whole group of amazing women living there with me.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Two Great Questions
The two questions that I have been waiting to hear, have finally arrived:
1. Have you put on weight lately? (Or a variation of, "I've noticed that your body looks different...but I didn't want to say anything..." Followed by awkward silence.)
It may not be much, but I am starting to show, and couldn't be more pleased.
2. Are you feeling the baby kick?
Not kick exactly, but this child is a strong swimmer, and basically any time that my body is at rest, I can feel distinct movement in my new belly area. This pregnancy thing is a miracle, and I would recommend it to any woman.
In fact, I think that if men could feel this for even one week, the world would be a very different place.
1. Have you put on weight lately? (Or a variation of, "I've noticed that your body looks different...but I didn't want to say anything..." Followed by awkward silence.)
It may not be much, but I am starting to show, and couldn't be more pleased.
2. Are you feeling the baby kick?
Not kick exactly, but this child is a strong swimmer, and basically any time that my body is at rest, I can feel distinct movement in my new belly area. This pregnancy thing is a miracle, and I would recommend it to any woman.
In fact, I think that if men could feel this for even one week, the world would be a very different place.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Fear of "No"
Amidst all my joy today in seeing the baby again, and knowing that we both have, Thank G-d, a clean bill of health, I also started addressing one of my most primal fears.
I really want my mother to be there for me when I give birth. I do not want to have to worry about how I will get to the hospital, and who will truly look out for my interests when I am in labour. I have inferred and asked politely several times, and my mother has simply said that she does not have the time to "waste" waiting around for the baby, and that both my parents would rather come later, when it is more convenient for them in terms of travel and work.
In speaking to my friend (SC) yesterday, she asked me why I simply don't demand that my mother and/or parents make me a priority, that they be there for me because I have asked them, because I need them.
My answer? I am less afraid of going through the birth alone, rather than hear the word "No," again. Because it would bring up the pattern of trauma since the beginning of my childhood, when my needs were consistently ignored, when I was made to feel that I hadn't even made the list of priorities for anyone. I tried so hard to be the Good Girl, that I became absorbed into the wood -work, and when I finally started asking for help and asserting my needs, no one in my family responded.
No wonder I moved to Israel, 6,000 miles away from "home."
I have a few more months to figure this out, ie whether I will ask a member of my family to put themselves out for me, or whether I can find an option in Israel, closer to home, closer to my home. For now, I have identified the issue and will let it sit for a while in my sub-conscious, to be dealt with when I am ready emotionally.
I really want my mother to be there for me when I give birth. I do not want to have to worry about how I will get to the hospital, and who will truly look out for my interests when I am in labour. I have inferred and asked politely several times, and my mother has simply said that she does not have the time to "waste" waiting around for the baby, and that both my parents would rather come later, when it is more convenient for them in terms of travel and work.
In speaking to my friend (SC) yesterday, she asked me why I simply don't demand that my mother and/or parents make me a priority, that they be there for me because I have asked them, because I need them.
My answer? I am less afraid of going through the birth alone, rather than hear the word "No," again. Because it would bring up the pattern of trauma since the beginning of my childhood, when my needs were consistently ignored, when I was made to feel that I hadn't even made the list of priorities for anyone. I tried so hard to be the Good Girl, that I became absorbed into the wood -work, and when I finally started asking for help and asserting my needs, no one in my family responded.
No wonder I moved to Israel, 6,000 miles away from "home."
I have a few more months to figure this out, ie whether I will ask a member of my family to put themselves out for me, or whether I can find an option in Israel, closer to home, closer to my home. For now, I have identified the issue and will let it sit for a while in my sub-conscious, to be dealt with when I am ready emotionally.
The Word Is Out
I went this morning for my ultra-sound and System Scan, and thank G-d, the doctor says that everything is developing as it should, with the size of the baby dated at 22 weeks + 2 days. In contrast to the Week 16 System Scan, the baby did not cooperate for the camera, preferring to snuggle along side the placenta.
To be truly accurate, the baby at one point picked her nose, and when I made the simple request that we get one good picture for the album, she seemed to laugh, as if to say, "Mom, you had better learn now that most times I will not do something just because you want me to."
The woman before me was a friend whom I met at Hadassah, we both got pregnant at the same time. The woman immediately after me was a woman from the "hood," that myopic Orthodox mindset, who was absolutely shocked to find out that we were due to give birth around the same time. I, in turn, was absolutely gobsmacked to find out that while she is having this child, her marriage failed after less than six months, and she is due to make the divorce official this coming Sunday.
(The difference between myself and this woman is that I went into this pregnancy knowing there would be no guarantee of a spouse, whereas she started out with a different concept and will now forever have a child torn between two biological parents.)
At the front desk, I met another woman from the area with her husband (and two of her current five children); she was having a week 33 ultra-sound and looked miserable, between the heat of the day and the weight of her body. Her husband, the son of an ultra-Orthodox Rabbi, feels that birth control is a sin, and this woman will probably continue to pump out the kids until her body quite simply collapses. In fact, the positive commandment of "Be Fruitful and Multiply" was given to Adam, and by extension, men in general; which means that halachically, women in specific have every right to use birth control and tell their husbands that they draw the line for their body.
So even though I am not really showing, my secret is out, and I expect that I will become the source of rumors and innuendo. Let them talk, if they have nothing better to do with their time.
To be truly accurate, the baby at one point picked her nose, and when I made the simple request that we get one good picture for the album, she seemed to laugh, as if to say, "Mom, you had better learn now that most times I will not do something just because you want me to."
The woman before me was a friend whom I met at Hadassah, we both got pregnant at the same time. The woman immediately after me was a woman from the "hood," that myopic Orthodox mindset, who was absolutely shocked to find out that we were due to give birth around the same time. I, in turn, was absolutely gobsmacked to find out that while she is having this child, her marriage failed after less than six months, and she is due to make the divorce official this coming Sunday.
(The difference between myself and this woman is that I went into this pregnancy knowing there would be no guarantee of a spouse, whereas she started out with a different concept and will now forever have a child torn between two biological parents.)
At the front desk, I met another woman from the area with her husband (and two of her current five children); she was having a week 33 ultra-sound and looked miserable, between the heat of the day and the weight of her body. Her husband, the son of an ultra-Orthodox Rabbi, feels that birth control is a sin, and this woman will probably continue to pump out the kids until her body quite simply collapses. In fact, the positive commandment of "Be Fruitful and Multiply" was given to Adam, and by extension, men in general; which means that halachically, women in specific have every right to use birth control and tell their husbands that they draw the line for their body.
So even though I am not really showing, my secret is out, and I expect that I will become the source of rumors and innuendo. Let them talk, if they have nothing better to do with their time.
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