I have, for so long as I can remember, had a small but special affinity for Thursday, as a day. I always liked that it acted as a reminder that we can make it – the weekend is almost here. But it wasn’t wild. It wasn’t packed with anticipation, nor filled with sorrow or regret if we were too tired to go do something special that night. It was still just another productive day. But it was different. It was relaxing and relieving, almost like a balm, preparing us for a final day of work before we got to rest (or party).
At some point, I looked up what day of the week I was born. No surprises there: It was a Thursday.
And then, when I learned German, my affinity grew still further. Donnerstag it is, “Thunder’s Day”. Talk about power and beauty and something truly amazing. Thunder. I was (and still am, of course) a total fan. Donnerstag.
And so, today landed beautifully in my life. On this Thursday, I believe God has granted answers to my prayers and healed many of my fears. I met with yet another midwife this afternoon. We spoke on the phone yesterday, and I was at ease the moment she had answered the phone. But I needed to meet her in person to make sure I was okay with her touching me. You know, kind of a big and important deal in pregnancy, birth, and post-partum care – the caretaker literally touches the woman all over the private parts, and even inside. Not someone we’d want to feel uncomfortable around and want to avoid touching. So, needed to meet her in person to find out.
Now, remember that I also have OCD. Hormonal things, like OCD, kind of go nuts during pregnancy – and apparently also especially so and suddenly so during post-partum recovery – and I have already been experiencing the glorious new level of savagery the thing can have on a life. My husband is struggling more than I am, because he has never been around me with the OCD so strong. I have been through much worse when I went through and following puberty. But my husband didn’t know me then, so the higher level stuff is brand spanking new for him, and it’s been hard. It sucks for me, of course, but I also am able to stay present to the fact that it is 1) temporarily so and 2) not me, specifically. It’s just something that hangs out with and, presently, really bothers me.
Nonetheless, all this to say that the touching thing has always been a factor for me in life. I already just don’t touch certain people or let them touch me. Others, it’s more a matter of limiting touch or making sure I get clean afterward, if necessary. It hasn’t been very prevalent in recent years for me, but it has still made appearances here and there. With pregnancy, though, everything is heightened, including comfort around being touched by certain individuals, and even by people with whom I am comfortable, like my husband, when they aren’t clean (and I mean freshly washed, no smells or sweat or anything). So, this meeting was hugely significant and decisive for our doctor/midwife selection.
And it think that also played a big role in how I struggled so much the first time in finding care. Just seeing names and photos online didn’t work for me. I needed to meet the person, be in the same room, in order to know if I was okay with being cared for by that person. But we’re doing much better this time around and we’ve been figuring out things slowly, but well.
I had told all of this to the midwife over the phone. She particularly has much experience with neurodiversity, folks whose brains don’t align fully with what is normal. This could be things like full-blown autism or just barely being on the spectrum, various disorders, and, even, including OCD. So, she accepted with true understanding everything I was sharing about the OCD, as well as about needing to meet her in person to see if I’m okay with having her touch me. She wasn’t offended. She was supportive.
Today, when she opened the door and smiled at me and said, “Hi,” I don’t really know if I even greeted her in return. I just remember looking at her wholly, saying in a half sob, “You don’t creep me out,” and then absolutely crying in relief. She truly laughed and asked if she could hug me. I was already leaning toward her for a hug from her, and agreed aloud before fully leaning into her. And she just held me for close to a minute while I sobbed in relief and she chuckled in understanding.
I told her how I had prayed about this since we’d gotten off the phone yesterday, and how I had just been through so much looking for the right person to work with us, not to mention how literally miserable I have been the past two months plus with all the nausea and sickness and utter incapacitation. She absolutely got it all, and she was wonderful.
And then we had the real meeting and it went great. My husband was on the phone to hear everything, but had to miss a lot, as he was having to work at the same time and couldn’t always give attention to our conversation over the phone. Nonetheless, there were no bad surprises, actually a few good ones, and it was a positive meeting.
At the end, I asked her about her little ultrasound machine. She’d mentioned over the phone that she had a little handheld one that could be used if needed/wanted, but wasn’t a requirement or anything. Last night, my husband had mentioned that he really wanted “one of those photos”, so he could use it to tell his family about the pregnancy, even though he knew my family all already know. (Different relationships with each of our own families, as can be expected, you see.) I told her as much and asked if her little one was able to do a photo, or if we would have to go somewhere for a whole ultrasound in order to get one.
She said hers absolutely could do the photo and even could do a video. But she would have to airdrop it to me, as it wouldn’t be a printout. (Uh, that’s only a bagillion times easier and better than a tiny photo, anyway!) And did I want to do it right now? She had a few minutes before her next appointment…
And so, I hobbled myself onto the sofa. She tucked in a towel to my undies for me, since I was down for the count after I lay down – I asked if she could do it, and she said she absolutely could if I wanted her to do so. Yes, please. And that was clear proof that I was comfortable with her and with her touching me.
Mere moments later, I was crying all over again, because I could see very clearly that little baby and its little yet powerful heartbeat, just chilling on that placenta like a pillow. And then it even did a whole little readjustment, and we got to see all the body parts move and everything. It was so bizarre and wonderful and I was a total happy mess.
And yes, it was only one baby. She checked all around to make sure. I truly had many signs to suggest strongly the chance of twins. (That was my main reason for going ahead with the ultrasound – I wanted to go ahead and start preparing for the appropriate number of kiddos, especially if it was going to be twins.) So, even she was genuinely looking to confirm whether it was just one or multiple babies that have been making me so terribly ill. But it was only one, after all. And that’s for the best for us all, I believe. Especially financially and sleep-wise. We didn’t need twins. We would have accepted them gladly, but one will be plenty enough work for us as it is. So, yeah, one baby in there. One super comfortable and healthy baby just chilling in my belly.
Such a delight.
When I surprised my husband with the photos and videos on the tv screen at home, I think he was genuinely surprised and delighted. It worked out perfectly.
Today as a whole worked out beautifully. I am grateful for all of it.
Thank you, God. Please, continue to heal my nausea and gas/bloating, while making this baby healthy and well and growing properly and beautifully. Make us both well and healthy, please. Keep my husband safe. And thank you for this midwife. Keep her and her family safe, too, please. In your name, I pray. Amen.
Post-a-day 2024
hannah ananas 