Got a call today from my insurance company nurse’s health line. Basically, you sign up (it’s called a Member Health Partnership), and they have nurses check in with you every month or so, make sure you’re informed, answer any questions, and give you resources to educate yourself about pregnancy, birth, etc. In exchange, besides the monthly phone calls and info support, you also get deals on baby items (like breast pumps and exercise videos) and, I imagine, get a big check mark next to your name in the insurance company file that says "TAKES CHARGE OF HEALTH. LET’S REDUCE HER PREMIUM." Or anyway, that’s my secret hope.
I love it when these nurses call. They are always very matter of fact, very forthright – they don’t coddle, they don’t shrink from asking probing questions. Without being obsequious or OTT, they praise my marriage (communication skills, specifically), my choices, my attitude, my intelligence, and my initiative. I’m sure this is a large part of their purpose – to soothe without condescending, to reassure, to build up. I eat it up. I’m like, yeah, tell me more about how wonderful I am at this! What’s that about how awesome my marriage is, gimme some more of that. I’m really gonna need this reassurance when it gets close to delivery time. And as the nurse pointed out today – we’re almost halfway there. Holy. God.
**Some gross Labor and Delivery discussion below.**
I’ve been reading about L&D. I know it’s common and part of life and women have done it through the ages and blah blah, but still it’s a huge scary painful thing, and most of what goes on is completely out of my control, unstoppable, and of course totally new to me (baby #2 I think will be infinitely easier, simply because I will know what’s coming.) Anyway, I was really worried about the sound of the words "tearing," and "episiotomy," and "scissors/knives/scalpels coming anywhere near my hoo-ha," and I asked my mother about it (I know she tore pretty badly when delivering me). And she laughed out loud and said – Ha! Oh honey, that’s nothing. Hmmm. Since that’s about the worst thing I can think of, pain wise, this was not reassuring. I’ve definitely decided I don’t want a mirror to show me what’s going on down there. I’d rather have the scissors/knives/scalpel remain stealthy. I know I’m supposed to take charge of my birth experience and write my birth plan and boss around my providers and all, but I think I’m just going to tell them – if you gotta cut me, just do it, and DON’T TELL ME ABOUT IT TIL IT’S DONE. I trust you. I don’t want that particular choice. I’ve been told I’ll be too distracted by the horrendous cramping muscle spasms in every other part of my body to really feel it, so don’t call my attention, ok? I’m good with ignorance re:cutting implements.
**Labor and Delivery discussion now tabled.**
Don’t tell my husband this – he likes to rant and rave about how "Christmas" as a phenomenon is slowly overtaking the entire year instead of remaining firmly relegated to late November/December where it should be – but I’ve started listening to Christmas music through Sirius. I love it. I can’t get enough. We’ll be pulling out the Christmas CDs soon, which we’ll be allowed to listen to in the house on the Friday after Thanksgiving and no earlier, says Hizzoner the Royal Prince of Bossiness Re:Christmas Traditions. I’m sneaking in a little early Christmas cheer, and it’s brightened my day. Hope your days are just as bright. Have a great Monday!
i won\’t go into the pain of childbirth. i will only leave you with this advise: TAKE THE EPIDURAL!