Heal Thyself...

As soon as I realized I was up the duff*, I booked an appointment with my family doctor.

I had met this man once before. He was older ("I'll probably retire next year"), focused on telling me about his days in residency, and happy that I would see him "as needed".

Cut to January 2014.

I arrive, grey and shivering with nausea. I fill out my paperwork, pee in a cup and wait in the consultation room.
The door opens.
A cheerful, pudgy teen sweeps in the room.

"OMG, sorry I'm sooo late. I'm Dr D and I'm a first year family med resident and I'll be looking after you today!"
"um..."
"So, like, you're pregnant, right? How far along?"
"um..."
"Oh, it's like your first visit! So we don't know for sure. So, like, I'm going to give you some forms to fill out and...Oh! It says here you're a resident!"
 "Yep. Family med. Doing fellowship in ER."
"Whoah! So cool! So, like, maybe you can help me - do I need to order the Rhesus titres today? Or can I leave that for the next visit?"
...
...
...
"Nope. Shut it down."

Consciously, I know I'm being unfair. She's finished medical school, she's a doctor, she can't be 19 and everyone has to learn somewhere.

However.

I was losing weight, unable to work and unable to handle a giggling, baby-talking little sprite who kept congratulating me on a pregnancy that was destroying me.

I've got a new family doctor. An old dude who used to deliver babies, has seen it all, and who knows what blood tests to order in each trimester.

This brings me to my next moral quandary; will I let a resident deliver my baby?
The short answer is no.

The long answer is; I have delivered about 40 babies, under varying circumstances, with varying outcomes. I would not want me or one of my colleagues to deliver my baby.

I want to give birth with someone who has caught 600 babies. Someone who will not think my birth process is, like, so amazing. Someone who will treat it as a run-of-the-mill, un-magical, totally routine experience. That way, if anything unusual happens, they can react to it.

I know, it's not fair to those learners out there, desperate to get their fingers in my cervix. It's hypocritical, considering how many chances I've been given over the years.

But I'm comfortable with it. If I wanted someone to revel in the magic of birth with me, I'd pop the sprog out on Pender.

*Aussie slang is the best. More to come.