If you are a birth planner, try your hardest not to take offense. There are plenty of planner -mom-bloggers out there to appease you. Trust me.
Sometime between the generation before me and my own, women invented birth plans, to the collective delight of all OB’s. Out of curiosity, I downloaded a template. It was 4 pages long. Some of my elective favorites:
The ability to wear your own contacts.
The ability to request a mirror to see ev.er.y.thing.
The ability to feel torturous pain, or to feel nothing.
The ability to bring your own props, with a suggestion of a beanbag (?)
The ability to request props, with the suggestion of a squatting bar. WHAT IS THIS HORROR?
The ability to be in pain in whatever position you want, no matter how bizarre.
The ability to request songs at intervals (cue: Enya at hour 6 please).
The ability to walk and eat.
The ability to request a cot for your partner and/or kick him out.
The ability to dictate the fate of any little masculine parts, Old Testament style.
And this is only the tip of the iceberg of the crazy. I didn’t even get to the room temperature, light dimness, bedding, and photography. See, yes, I was thankful that the facilities were nice, nice enough to birth a baby. But I didn’t really want to be here. Planning it like a vacation felt like we would be staying a while, and I just wasn’t down with that.
I was, however, down with making my hospital bag a vacation:
Instead of this form, I decided to ask my doctor the questions that really mattered:
Q:Will I die?
A: No (I should note it wasn’t a firm no)
Q: Can you guarantee that this person’s head and body will fit through this opening…can you guarantee it 100%? What measurements do you have to go off of? Can you x-ray the skull and pelvic area so we can be sure? (this was quickly ruled out for baby safety).
Q: Will you be adding a catheter or enema to the mix?
Then I informed my doctor that I did have a birth plan:
Keep us both alive. And if you have to pick someone to save, pick me.
Thankfully, she had big picture vision.