A blog about babies: the babies I lost, the babies I never had, the baby who made me a Mama.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

It Starts...; or The Wisdom of Earplugs in Crowds

I've heard about all the unsolicted "advice" pregnant women/infertile women/mothers get from "well-meaning" friend and acquaintances. Very few people even know I'm trying to get pregnant, but I guess because I'm of child-bearing age, I'm fair game for this sort of thing.

I went to a sip and see last night to meet the baby of a college friend who was visiting from out of town. Another former sorority sister (lets call her X) was there with her baby and her husband. I like X very much, although we're not close. Her husband I can take or leave (if I'm honest, mostly leave).

Both babies are around 3-4 months old, so of course we started chatting about adjusting to being a mom and giving birth and all that jazz. The other women present were not mothers, but we're all in our late-twenties/early-thirties and were genuinely interested.

Somehow I got into a conversation with X about the hospital in Manhattan where she gave birth that led into a slag-fest against another NY hospital...where my gynocologist delivers. "Change doctors," X advised immediately, as they went on to describe how this hospital "kills babies" (those were literally the words her charming husband used).*

I love my gyn. It took me years to find her. I have never liked a doctor as much as I like her. The thought of switching away from her breaks my heart. The thought of giving birth in some third-rate hospital where babies' heads are crushed by forceps gives me nightmares. And I'm not even pregnant!

My husband was furious. He felt like this was just an example of "I know better than you" superiority (all too common in NYC). He knows how much I love my doctor. He knows how anxious I get about anything baby-related. He knows I'm going to start stressing about this, when (I repeat) there's no reason to because I'M NOT PREGNANT YET.

I'm seriously considering going back on anti-anxiety meds, except I'm worried about the effect of them on my non-existent fetus. Maybe I should just learn to practice selective deafness.

* This is not some scary inner-city hospital. Sarah Jessica Parker freaking delivered here. It doesn't have the "best ranked NICU" in Manhattan, but it's also not dog-shit.

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