Waiting is the hardest part

And no, I’m not talking about waiting for New Girl’s arrival. We have far, far too much to do before she’s here for there to be any actual “waiting” taking place.

I’m talking about waiting at my doctor’s office.

One of the biggest hurdles I had to overcome in switching to this office was how far away it is from work when my current office is a whopping 3 minutes away–with traffic. As it is, I’ll be taking about a week to a week and a half of maternity leave unpaid (or paid via the optional short term disability insurance I’ve paid into for several years now), so I don’t have a lot of paid time to take for doctor’s appointments and I hate having to be the one always asking people to cover my classes so I can get to the doctor. I always try to schedule my appointments for the last available that day.

I left work at 3:00 yesterday to head to my second appointment at the new OB’s office because I had no idea what traffic would be like in that direction. I got there by 4:00. The appointment was scheduled for 4:25.

I was finally called into the room at 4:50. It was a million, zillion degrees in the office. I’d look at the clock and imagine the hordes of cars piling onto the roads making their way out to suburbia. I imagined myself stuck in that traffic.

I got antsy.

But, I kept breathing. I kept reminding myself that I knew the wait was worth it. That I’d made the right decision in going there. I relaxed and waiting.

Finally, I was called in to meet the NP and have my tummy check. She was with me for 20 minutes, at least, and that visit–the last of the day when I’m certain everyone in that office would rather be walking out the door–reminded me, yet again, that I’m receiving the kind of care I never would’ve gotten at my old OB’s office.

She listened to my concerns about the vagina bone pain and instead of saying “Well, I don’t think you’re in labor but I can check your cervix if you want me to” she explained what was happening and what I could do to relieve the pain. She reminded me that while annoying, this pain won’t last forever and it’s serving a purpose.

Every visit gets an ultrasound via one of the portable, laptop-sized machines. Every visit. She gooped me up and immediately said “That’s good! A head down baby!! The chin’s tucked! And anterior presentation!”

(In layman’s terms, she’s preparing herself to get “locked and loaded” in a couple of weeks. And she’s facing my spine. Oh, and yes, she’s still a she. I had the NP check!)

How proactive, right? My old doctor wouldn’t have scanned for that.

She saw my scar and asked me if I was VBACing this one.

“Yes,” I said, resolutely.

I asked if she could still flip to breech position and the NP said, yes, but that it’s unlikely. (Whew.) And if she does flip, Dr. T will try to turn her.

Do you know what she never mentioned during that ultrasound or visit?

The potential size of my baby.

She didn’t hazard a guess or say “Oh, she’s looking big. We should get more measurements.”

She didn’t say “Oh, you’re measuring ahead of schedule.”

She didn’t try to scare me out of a VBAC by insinuating I can’t give birth to this baby because she might be big.

At my last appointment at my old office–at 28 weeks–the doctor said “Oh, you’re measuring ahead, and since you want to VBAC, we’ll need to monitor her size and make sure she’s not getting to big. Let’s schedule a growth scan for next time!”

Do you know what’s scheduled for my next visit now?

A longer-than-usual appointment to go over my birth plan WITH the OB so that we’re all on the same page when it comes time for this girl to actually exit my body.

With Joshua, I asked about writing a birth plan and I was told “Oh, just bring it with you to the hospital…”

The writing was on the wall there.

And here, the only writing I see is a giant, neon sign that says “We support you.”

Which pretty much makes the wait worth it.

5.5 weeks to go.