It seems with each pregnancy it gets more and more interesting. Amber was smooth sailing, except for the scoldings I would get from my doctor for my weight gain. Sam had doctors in other cities worried that I was going to drop at any moment, because you know that women in severe stress just stop dropping babies without any warning. My stress was caused by a little hurricane called Katrina that decided it was time to wipe New Orleans off the face of the earth. She didn’t succeed. With both pregnancies I went on to have rather uneventful births. Matter of fact, I think Sam’s was downright boring and too clinical. Amber had a hint of excitement, but nothing that would make one of those delivery shows on Discovery Health. This one seems to know it will be my final journey down the making babies trail and has decided to give me enough tame curve balls to keep me on my toes.
Not only do I have more than enough doctors to ensure that I reach my deductible before any baby comes forth, it is like Christmas each time I go in for an ultrasound. There is always something new and interesting going on in there that makes you go hmmmm…and something for the special doctor to “keep on eye on”. We started seeing the ultraspecial doctor to talk about testing, because you know I am old and have to be monitor. You know tests and more tests are ordered to make sure that my womb hasn’t crapped out on me and can still do it’s job like a young, vital womb. Talk about ageism. Apparently, when you turn down those special tests, that are suppose to tell you exactly what you want to know but are notoriously wrong, they want to “keep an eye on you”. That will be the running theme for this pregnancy and everytime the Dr. says it I envision her with a huge eye following me where ever I go.
So you go in for once a month ultrasounds and get more pictures than your other 2 kids combined, forever throwing out that old theory that once the third one comes along there are less pictures. Each month brings with it a new little problem that is tied in a bow and ready for you and your doctor to unwrap. There was the kidney backed up, then both kidneys backed up, then there was the placenta, that little rascal playing peek a boo with my cervix and then, the latest, my placenta has formed a little tent over the baby. I believe my heavily Asian accent doctor informed me that my placenta has 2 lobes. I asked and I think she clarified, yes 2 lobes. Well, ain’t my placenta creative and special. I guess there is room for creativity as long as you are getting the job done. So why did I need to know this about my placenta, well I have to tell my OB/GYN so she can make sure to get it all out.
Oh yeah, I have to tell her. So not only is this last pregnancy giving me every possible little medical mystery to run with, but I have work to do. I am paying the big bucks to meet my deductible, but I have to make sure my OB/GYN gets everything all cleaned out. I kid, I kid. I am sure my doctors will communicate through their notes, but I will be the good little patient and make sure to tell my OB to make sure she sweeps my entire uterus clean and lock up when she is done. Actually, I think this has all taught me to be grateful that I am relativity healthy and my baby making, while a little on the odd side, is in okay condition.
It was suggested to me that maybe these doctors are trying to squeeze me for every last penny and I admit I have thought it myself. I think it is more them trying to cover their ass. Let me tell you, I have more than once used my patient rights to decline testing. I mean I do have a brain and while I didn’t go to medical school, and doctors might shake their heads behind my backs, ultimately I am responsible for my medical care and take full responsibility for my decisions. I mean all that matters is that the high deductible gets met for the year and we are in the clear for the hospital bill. (/sarcasm)
Reading your post really took me back. Everything was fine and normal with my first son (now 6). My daughter was born the Wednesday before Katrina. I was so thankful that I was not in your shoes. Traveling with a 3 day old is bad enough and doing so a few days after major abdominal surgery is even worse but I had pain killers to help with that. I just kept thinking I could have been 9 months along and that would have been the worst. God bless you! She was supposed to be the last but it turns out that birth control is only 99.8 effective and I was pregnant again at 40. To top that it was TWINS (now almost 2)! I know all about the monthly ultrasounds and weekly monitoring. It reallys puts you through the ringer. Good Luck!