When I first thought up the title for this post, I had a few ideas as to what I would write. Now, I no longer have anything to say that is vaguely relevant, except to note that I have, in the past few weeks, developed a light brown line down the centre of my growing bump. That, and I've been grappling with the thought of putting myself on the line in a big way and telling the interweb all about the various fuck-ups alluded to in my previous post. And I've once again decided not to. Because, while it might make for some fairly interesting reading, I'm not sure I'm prepared to subject myself to the inevitable fallout at this time.
And so the biggest thing in my life at the moment remains the degree to which my waistline continues to expand as I waddle my way through the final trimester of this pregnancy. And on this subject, as on most others, I find myself indecisive as to how I feel. Generally, I guess I just feel large and uncomfortable and am thus inclined to spend most of my time thinking about the countdown to D-day.
Speaking of which, I've been doing a fair bit of research on the various birth options available to me and I have come to the conclusion that my options are rather limited:
1. I can't afford (and am disinclined toward) an elective c-section.
2. Ditto a "normal" hospital delivery, considering the complicated and clinical births of my first two children, which I believe would have been very different had I a) been better educated and b)had fewer unnecessary interferences.
3. My husband and mother are equally (strenuously) opposed to my attempting an unassisted home birth, considering the complications experienced during my previous two labours. So that's half that battle lost anyway, since the success of such an attempt is heavily dependent upon a particularly high level of confidence on the part of the birthing mother, whose level of confidence is directly affected by that of her partner and/or caregiver.
4. My midwife is not prepared to assist in a home birth, since I've had a previous c-section.
5. Which pretty much brings us to the only remaining option, which is the marginally more affordable midwife-assisted delivery in an active birthing unit.
I guess it could be worse. I suppose I ought to be happy that I don't have to deliver in a government hospital. So why do I still feel cheated? Why do I feel resentful toward anyone who's dared to question either my right to birth in whatever manner I choose or my sanity for the choice I've expressed?
Mostly, I'm aware that being annoyed with the people around me and with life in general is a common pregnancy symptom. Most days, I'm not really all that annoyed until I start getting hungry, thirsty, tired or uncomfortable. Or something.
Meh. See? This is why I rather just don't write anything.
Okay, time out. Let's see how this goes next time.
