xmas two thousand ten

december 24th, 2010 - 10:00 AM

i've just peed on a plastic stick. on the surface, this doesn't seem very representative or meaningful. deep down, this little plastic stick with my urine on it is about to change my life. instantaneously, those two little pink lines appear. i haven't even wiped yet. something must be wrong. after having stood in front of the pregnancy test aisle for about 15 minutes in utter confusion, yann had finally just grabbed the cheapest one. i don't trust it and its result. i'm skeptic. we've been dating for barely 2 months, do i even want this? what do i want? i had had the test, still in its wrapper, on my dresser for 3 days now. unable to face the reality. my breasts were tender, painful. something inside of me already knew...  yet, my head can't wrap itself around those telltale pink lines. we leave it at that. we're having about 15 of our friends over for christmas eve tonight. our first christmas together. we have errands to run - i take the opportunity to stop by the pharmacy. i choose the fanciest test there is. if there was one that could speak, i'm pretty sure i would of chosen that one.

home we go and decide to have a little lunch before launching in the preparation of our christmas eve party hosting endeavour. i can't take the suspense any longer - while yann finishes fixing lunch, i quietly slip in the bathroom, have a little stick pee, rince it and leave it on the counter. i sit down to a pipping hot bowl of soup and tell yann, "if you want to know if you're going to be a father, the answer is on the counter in the bathroom." we're both just sitting there smiling. he's nervous, i can tell. he gets up, goes in the bathroom for what seems like an eternity (i think it was actually about 2.3 seconds) and out he comes with the stick and an even bigger smile. he doesn't say anything but he doesn't need to. we're happy but we can't seem to find the proper words to communicate it. we finish our lunch and start on the prep for the evening - we just make food, listen to music and both seem too stunned to even talk about it. sooner than we had anticipated, people begin arriving. we've settled on not telling anyone. we're both still so much in shock that we're unable to share the news. in order to do so, things must seem normal - i allow myself one last night of debauchery. i drink. i smoke. i toke. i do it all. i'm nervous and can't get this child off my brain yet it hasn't sunk it enough that i feel bad downing jäger shots still at 5:00 AM.

on the phone with côte des neiges

the next morning is a new day for a us. a new life. yann swears to not drink for the next 9 months - i'm not sure if it's because of the pregnancy or the horrible hangover he has but atleast i have someone to accompany me. we were partners in vice, now we're partners in sobriety (and i can assure you, it wasn't easy). we spend the next few days hiding from everyone. we don't quite know how to put into words what's going on in our lives and above all - we're not even sure what the next step is. the holidays are making it even more complicated for us. the one thing i do know is this: i'm way too afraid of hospitals to give birth there. on january 7th, 2011 we finally call the closest birth home center - côte des neiges. the lady on the other end of the line is rude - what a great start - and seems to be annoyed that yann has called and not me. she says they'll call us back when i get a place. (funny fact: to this day, they still haven't called back.) not feeling confident at all, we begin looking for an alternative. we do what everyone does and call the nearest medical clinic and set up an appointment with a doctor. meanwhile, all i know is that i don't want to give birth with him. i haven't even met him but i know i want nothing to do with a man near me during birth if it isn't yann. call me sexist, i don't care. i just don't see how a man (that isn't my fiancé or my father) can be understanding/useful in a time like this. you wouldn't ask a man for tampon advice, would you?


meanwhile, yann manages to get a hold of a friend of his in france. his wife gave birth to their 4 children at home. maybe they can help us. oddly enough, his midwife knows a girl here in québec whose dabbled in midwifery. we've yet to meet with the doctor (let's call him... Dr. Evil) but we meet with her anyway (let's call her... Little Miss Sunshine). she's spunky and welcomes us into her home as though we've known each other for years. she talks about home birth so passionately that i suddenyl can't imagine myself doing it any other way. since she herself isn't a midwife, she gives us the number of another woman. between classes, i give her a call. she seems nice but informs me right away, based on my "due date", that she might not be available but gives me the number of one of her colleagues. i'm positive but this is starting to be a little ridiculous. we begun this journey in france, made it to québec and we're just bouncing from one person to the next. meanwhile, i still have a month before my appointement with Dr. E. i call what i hope is the last person in this game of "find a midwife". the second i hear Her voice on the line, i know i'm done looking. She's warm and kind, patient and caring. i can just sense it in Her voice that She is the type of person that wakes up with a smile on Her face. we set up a meeting that falls right after my first meeting with Dr. E - which just so happens to be on february 14th. how fitting...

february 9th, 2011 - 8:50 AM

i never, ever check my voicemail. for some reason, that morning i feel the need to. i'm still laying in bed when i punch in my password and hear this message: "hi, i'm so and so from Dr. E's clinic and we're calling to inform you that your appointment has been pushed forward to February 9th at 9:00 AM". i check the date. i check the time. and freaking out ensues. i call the secretary asking how this could be given that i never called to confirm. she's, once again, very rude and tells me that i'm going to miss my appointment. (i hadn't realized we were playing "state the obvious" but clearly, she wins.) i ask her if there is any chance under the sun that i can come now and possibly see the doctor anyway, that i've been waiting a month for this. she says that i just need to be here before noon and they'll figure something out. i do something that ressembles showering, pack a light snack (my buddy, nausea, has already begun tagging along) and we run to the metro.

it's barely 10:00 AM and we've made it. i present myself, out of breath and tousled, at the front desk. the second i hand her my medicare card, i just know she recognizes me. she sticks us on two chairs in the hall, the waiting room is full. babies crying, people coughing, brown carpeting... everything to make you feel right at home. we wait. and wait. and wait. i pee. and puke. and pee. yann does his best to keep his calm. she finally calls me over to her desk. asks me to take my shoes off and get on the scale. i'm confused. is she the doctor? will i be examined here, in the waiting room?! i'm overwhelmed and yann is still sitting out in the hallway a.k.a our own personal waiting room. i begin to panick. her rudeness isn't helping. she asks me to fill out papers. i ask her one question to which she bites back. over the radio, in the background, i hear the song that was played at my cousin's funeral. i break down. i can't hold it in any longer. i just start bawling, right there, shoes off, in the waiting room, in front of a bunch of strangers. you'd think she'd lighten up but instead just asks me if i'm done. i look up at her, eyes full of tears, and tell her that i don't deserve to be treated like this. that i'm human, too. that if she's having a bad day, it isn't my fault and that my child doesn't deserve to have its first contact with its parents like this. she's so stunned, she doesn't even know what to say. she turns around and grabs a box of tissues and asks me if she can help me with finishing up the form. things are looking up, i start to feel a little more hopeful that this won't be a horrible exprience after all. i go back to my chair and resume back to waiting.

about 3 hours after our arrival, we finally get to see the doctor... or so we think. my newfound friend from the front desk comes to get us. she leads us in a small, cold examination room and instructs me to "take off my pants and sit on the table." i do just that. before she leaves, she closes the curtain which leaves me sitting, alone on a cold table, ass hanging out, with yann awkwardly sitting on the other side. we speak to each other like it's one of those 70's dating shows - we don't know if he's even allowed on the other side of the curtin. finally, 15 long minutes later, Dr. E walks in looking like a character straight out of star trek. one glance and i just know with certainty, this is the first and last time he'll ever get his huge man hands near my vagina. he walks by yann like he's just a picture on the wall. he looks over the forms i filled out an hour or so ago... in silence. it's so awkward. i manage to peep out the side of the curtain to yann. seeing his face settles me but i just wish he could be standing next to me. Dr. E finally graces me with his presence on my side of the curtain. he tells me to "lay down on my back, put my ass as close to the edge of the table and feet up in this horrible cold, metallic stir-ups" (clearly not with those words but it's my story here...). without warning, he jams another cold, metallic apparatus up my lady part. what up?! thanks for the warning, Dr. Asshole. he looks up over the blue sheet and tells me i need to relax. "oh sorry, bro. relax? yes, given this feels like rape, let me just relax here." is all i can think of. i just politely smile and tell him i'm doing my best.

he puts away his instrument of torture and takes out the doppler. again without warning, he plops down a dollop of cold-ass gel on my stomach and begins looking for the baby's heartbeat. (in retrospect, i wish he would of told us, i wish he would of invited yann to come over and listen, too.) forcing his way around my stomach with his little machine, he asks me if i can hear it? "hear what?!" is what i blurt out. i have no clue what's going on - mind you, i'm nervous and this is my first pregnancy. "your baby's heartbeat!" he retorts back as though i'm mentally challeneged. gee golly, Doc, don't be too nice either! when i finally hear what i'm supposed to be hearing, i mutter a quiet "yes" - i'm so touched to finally hear the confirmation of the baby's presence. he keeps the doppler on me a total of about 7 seconds. he carefully wipes his doppler and hands me one piece of brown paper to wipe myself down and just leaves me there. as he sits behind is desk, i realize this is my cue to get dressed... i take a seat next to yann. silence. the doctor starts asking questions - he seems put off by everything we say. the cherry on top comes when we mention that we are looking into a home birth. he literally drops his pen, takes off his glasses and tells us that we "need to make up our minds now because we're taking up someone's place and wasting his time". in that instant, i know that i would prefer giving birth in a dumpster full of rats than having to deal with this horrible example of a human being ever again.

on our way to the clinic...

we leave the clinic mad, disappointed and a little in shock. we try and figure out what just happened - it all seems so surreal. how can someone be so cold with expecting parents? with anyone, really?! i'm pretty sure i've had better, warmer, kinder service at canadian tire... our only hope is in waiting for our meeting with Her. i can't remember the date, it doesn't really matter but soon after we meet with what would soon become our midwife. She comes to our house for our first meeting - She tells us it should only take about 30 minutes to an hour, just so we can get aquainted and see if we click as a team. She walks in, hugs and kisses us... aaaand i'm already sold. 3 hours later, we've talked about everything under the sun - life, animals, career, birth, tattoos, food, family, photography... it just clicks. we're so overwhelmed with emotion to have found the one that we set up another meeting right away. our mind is set: we will go back to Dr. E to have one echo (we're both still a little stunned and overcome by emotions that we need visual confirmation) and then be done with him. our hope, our plan is to have the follow up done by Her. i trust in Her, i trust in my body, i trust in my baby and i trust in yann... together we embark on the journey of home birth and that is where it all began, on december 24th with a stick full of pee...


to be continued...