I wanted my insurance to cover chiropractic treatment for this symphysis trouble, which is much improved but still painful. (I am under strict instructions from my midwife not to do laundry, because carrying things up the stairs is a prime way to make it worse. Yes, ma'am! That's an instruction I'm happy to comply with. Now all I have to do is sustain an injury that sidelines me from washing dishes and I can kick back and lead a life of leisure.) I called my doctor's office to see about a referral, and they told me I'd need to come in first.
Today I saw the other doctor in the practice, and OH MY GOODNESS is she different from her partner. Remember my conversation with him about the risks of homebirth? Lather rinse repeat, minus the friendly. The weird part about both conversations is that they've focused on the risks to me: I could die because nine years ago I had a not-enormous and easily controlled postpartum hemorrhage. Neither doctor has mentioned the risks to the baby, which take up much more space in my head. The studies don't support the idea that the risks to babies are greater in planned attended homebirth, but things do go wrong sometimes. I find myself thinking about that a lot just now.
Since I've had this conversation before, I responded pretty calmly. Nine years ago I had clear risk factors for postpartum hemorrhage: untreated anemia, long first stage, long second stage. This time my hemoglobin is solidly in the normal range (up a whole unit from six weeks ago! I am practically Popeye!) and it is very unlikely that I will contract hard for 24 hours or push hard for two (please God). I have had more babies than the average woman, which is an additional risk factor, but I have also had two perfectly normal third stages, with not a glimmer of trouble, since that hemorrhage. Hm, I'm thinking I probably said all this in that earlier post and you guys aren't the ones I want to argue with anyway. I'll spare you the part about the drugs my midwife carries and how close I am to the hospital where I have already pre-registered.
I am still a little wound up about our conversation, though. It made me want to come home and blast Enya while brewing a pot of red raspberry leaf/shepherd's purse tea and soaking plaster strips for a belly cast. I don't actually own any Enya or any belly-casting materials, but I think I will put the kettle on.
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