Even at nearly 35 weeks pregnant, I still grapple with the fact that this will be a hospital birth. I know that it’s totally normal for most people, but I cherish the birth we had with Thad and how special that was. You would think, that after 22 weeks of knowing where I’ll be delivering that I would have wholly accepted it by now. Yeah, not so much.
First, imagine a home birth. Minimal people, little distractions, loads of cold cheese pizza (apparently I get really, really hungry), tons of pain and hard work, but in the end you have a wonderful, healthy little baby. (More on Thad’s birth story, here and here). Regardless if it’s at home or at the hospital, giving birth is like running a marathon.
Now imagine having to give birth in a cold operating room and on an OR “bed” (which is much smaller than a hospital L&D bed), in an OR with three nurses, an anesthesiologist (or two), two doctors, not to mention my husband and hopefully my doula. This means potentially 6 of the 9 people will be complete strangers.
I’m a little nervous, to say the least.
However, my doctor is amazing. Over the 22 weeks of appointments we’ve had together, we’ve come to know each other a little bit better each time and have developed a mutual respect for each other. For example, he called me out on doing too much after I spent a whole Saturday getting non-stress-testing done in the hospital… and he was right. Then he laughed as he said it must have been hard for someone who doesn’t like hospitals. I know he has my back when it comes to ensuring that I can as close to the type of birth that I hope for. I also trust him to make the best decisions for the twins and myself — if he absolutely says that twin B needs to come out as a c-section after I’ve already delivered twin A vaginally, it will suck, but I will obviously do it.
Last week when I saw my doctor, I felt it was a good time to go over my birth preferences with him in detail and discuss what I was okay with and what I was not okay with. He scanned over the painfully long document and said that most of it looked good, which is great. Then I decided to share the most important that mattered and things he should be aware of.
I don’t like talking. Like at all. Unless it’s medically necessary, it’s best that all conversations are kept to a minimum.
Sure. No problem.
Oh, and it’s really important that the boys aren’t given the shots or the eye ointment.
And no baths. They can be wiped clean, but not baths.
Sure, no problem. You’ll just wash them a month later? (He deadpans this.)
Yeah, and I’d like them wrapped in their placentas.
(He starts to smirk.)
And, my guru needs to be there.
We both laugh and then he tells me about a woman who once had a whole slew of people in her L&D room chanting while she was in labor. I laughed and said I wasn’t joking about my guru, and then laughed again and told him I was kidding but I was serious about the baby bathing.