Meet the Bean

Wanna know about our first appointments? The day after Christmas was my first doctor’s appointment. Since we’ve moved, I have to start all over finding an OB. This is SO HARD, y’all. You see, I had Steven and Henry both at home with a physician-assisted homebirth clinic. It was the best experience, the best decision I’d ever made. I HATED my birth experience with Maggie. It was full of interventions and rules and “you can’t”s. I swore after that, I’d never have a child in the hospital again.

Now, eleven years later, here I am in an area that has no homebirth services or even, really, midwives available. There’s one who works Lake County and eastern McHenry and one that is in Rockford, but I’m just not comfortable being that far away. The Homefirst practice had doctors that mostly live near the city, but there were several offices and I never had to go more than 15 minutes to get to one.

So, I asked our D.O. before Christmas about OBs in the area who might be more amenable to our birth views. She recommended a doctor, so I made an appointment there. Of course, it’s a practice, so there are a couple of doctors. I had to cancel my first appointment due to the big snowstorm. So, I rescheduled with another doctor.

So…went in for my appointment. Turns out the nurse was someone I went to high school with, so that was cool. Got all my history and, since it had been over a year since my pap, we had to do the whole shebang. Testing for anything and everything that could possibly be wrong in & around my naughty bits. Which is always fun, y’know? They’d forgotten to ask for a urine sample, so I had to pad down the hall in my gowns and do that. Of course, it was positive.

The doctor joined us and seemed a bit….out of sorts. I think he’s new with the practice and not in a rhythm yet. He asked a few questions and I could not get him to understand that I had 3 live births and 3 miscarriages with 2 of the 3 live births done at home. He kept asking if I’d had the last baby “here” (local hospital) and I kept saying, “No…I had him at home.” He was quiet for a second and, I think, assumed I meant my last “pregnancy” – that I’d miscarried at home. “No,” I repeated. “I had my sons Steven and Henry at home. They were homebirths.”

He was HORRIFIED. No, seriously. He started stammering and got all flustered as he tried to tell me what a bad idea that was and how I had to have this one in the hospital, all the things that can go wrong, etc. “There were doctors there,” I said. “It was physician-assisted homebirth. It’s not like it was just me & my husband…” He wasn’t having ANY of it. I don’t know if he thought I wanted him to come to my house or just the thought of homebirth went against his deeply held convictions or what. But he was NOT PLEASED and did what many traditional doctors do when presented with an alternative viewpoint – he tried to scare me. I always love that. Excuse me, sir. I’ve actually HAD children at home. I’ve actually BEEN THROUGH it. Please don’t try to scare me – because, by my experience, nothing was scarier than the hospital.

Anyway, let’s say that his viewpoint didn’t really line up with mine. His biggest concern is that, because I’m 40 now, I HAVE to make an appointment with a genetic counselor to have a whole laundry list of tests I have no intention of having. CVS, amnio, blah..blah…blee. Seems to me that the purpose of these test is to tell you that it’s possible that something might be atypical about your child. They’re not 100% accurate (often more false results than true ones) and the only reason I can see to find that out is if you want to eliminate a child who may not be “perfect”. Which doesn’t apply to us. If God decides that our child can’t survive outside the womb, He’ll take care of it. I mean, I already have one child who has one of their “high risk” dealy-jobs and we didn’t know before he was born. Nothing tragic happened. If something had been wrong, it would have been noticed after birth and we would have taken him to the hospital. So..yeah. I really am not interested in this whole “genetic counseling” thing. Whatever will be, will be and otherwise? Get your hands out of my uterus.

Okay – so that appointment wasn’t optimal. I have to go back next week, so I made my appointment with another doctor who’s a woman and, judging by her name, is African. I’m hoping she’s a little more open-minded and less dictatorial. Today, however, was our “dating” ultrasound! I was very excited and a little scared. Scared that there might be a litter hiding in there. Which would suck, but explain how sick I feel.


There was only one! Praise God! I know it’s hard to make anything out – it looks like a warty kidney bean. But, the head is the big lump on the left side. I measured actually a little further along than we thought – I’m 9 weeks rather than 8, so that was cool. We saw the heartbeat (180), so all looks good so far. Apparently, once you see/hear the heartbeat, the chance of miscarriage drops dramatically, so that was reassuring. Bean measured 2cm (just under 1″) which she said was about 2 kidney beans. Very cool. So, we’ll just play wait & see until ultrasound #2 where, hopefully, we’ll know what Bean is!