I’m going to take a page out of Girl with Pen’s and Dooce’s sites and “pregnancy blog.” Less than two weeks to the day when I get to meet this person who has been using my ribs as a jungle gym and my cervix as a moon bounce for the greater part of this year. Outside of a couple of scares and the headaches of switching OB offices three times to finally find a doctor I liked (who then quit her practice after two appointments with me, but I’m guessing not because of me), gratefully, this has been a smooth pregnancy. And yet, I’m up from roughly 3:00-6:00 a.m. the last three nights, thanks to my newest doctor’s newest concern. “You’re measuring small.”
How many times in a woman’s life is this an insult? A threat even! “Your husband’s over 6′3″? If he was 5′8″, I might let this go. No, we’ll have to do another sonogram to make sure the baby’s not growth restricted and that there’s enough fluid, or we’ll induce.” Since I’m guessing that not all of you have read the latest books and documentaries on how interventions in pregnancy lead to more interventions in delivery, I’ll just cut to the chase by voicing my personal preference for tea and sex as induction methods over an IV drip of manmade hormones, reported to dramatically increase the intensity of contractions. Did you see the New York Times article on how redheads feel more pain?
“Maybe we’re having a Sardinian baby,” Joe says cheerfully.
Okay, nothing to worry about. He’s still moving around, having a grand old time in there, not knowing that a measuring tape has pronounced him small for 38 weeks. They can’t get me in for a sonogram until a week before I’m due, so there’s nothing to do but wait and hope that I’m not stunting my child’s growth or depriving him of a full kiddie pool.
The thing not to do when you’re concerned about the invisible creature you’re growing is to go to a place where there are lots of other women who seem to be doing a better job of it by sporting enormous bellies and wearing toddlers in slings on their hips. Inevitably, these women will talk to you.
“When are you due? Oh my god, you’re so small.” “Isn’t she small?” “Wow, I was like a condo at 38 weeks.” “I’m 30 weeks and look how much bigger I am.”
Halfway from the baby store to the car, I burst into tears. I’ve been more emotionally stable since I’ve been pregnant, so this may have been a shocker for soon-to-be-dad, who was toting our newly purchased breast pump and nursing bras.
I know how very lucky I am and how very irrational my reaction to the chorus of comments. It’s just so strange that for most of our lives it’s considered incredibly rude to speak to a stranger about her body. “Having never met you before, I’d just like to let you know that I think you’re a bit fat.” Or, “Don’t you think you should eat more? I don’t exactly know what your gene pool’s like, but you seem kind of tiny.” Then suddenly, you’re the container for this alien who you hope will turn out to be a proficient human, and everyone wants to talk about how you look doing it!
Until I know that Baby is healthy, I’m going to prickle every time someone exclaims how compact I am, but I’m trying to remember the point of all those books and documentaries: Doctors are in search of even the possibility of an anomaly and will treat it with the appropriate doctorly gravity. Meanwhile, women have been carrying babies, whatever their size, and delivering them without any assistance whatsoever for a few thousand years. That, and to breathe.
Cristina, You will be great! I so honor the process you are going through and the humor you bring to it– sounds like everyone has an eager, if not obnoxious, opinion about birth to share with you. Even I would and I’ve never been pregnant! I’m on your side with the tea and sex for inductions and Ricki Lake’s incredible, ground-breaking film. However it unfolds for you will be just right.
Congratulations. As I said in another post on this site, I’m also pregnant with my first child. So many people want to turn the experience into one of fear, shopping, and neuroses. I’m trying to work on trust (of my body, of this baby, of nature, of–for me–God). I hope that the haters back off!
Cristina, I admire your transparency here so much. You are exactly where and as you need to be, and there is a way that the Universe often shoves you as soon as you’ve made your stand for something. That’s okay; you have the strength and ability to shove right back. I can’t wait to hear your magnificent birth story.
And congratulations to you too, Dora! I have so much respect for you – trusting your body is a powerful action to take, and I’m sure you’re already experiencing the rush of wisdom that comes with it.
Thank you so much, ladies. So you liked Ricki’s film, Molly? I found it moving and balanced. And of course the twilight sleep part was just horrifying.
Dora, congratulations! It sounds like you are navigating this path well. I really hear you on the idea of trust. That gets tested so often, as everyone has such strong opinions about absolutely everything. I can’t even say the words cloth and diaper in the same sentence without getting railed at. I hope the haters steer clear of you too.
And Jennifer, I like the way you put it that the Universe will give a shove as soon as you’ve made a stand. Maybe that’s just to check our conviction? I appreciate your confidence in me!
[...] head position when my doctor ordered a sonogram because she was worried that I was measuring too small. (By the way, had she not been facing this way, we never would have seen that she was a girl!) I [...]