Despatches from a mother who started late (and is running to catch up)

Parallel universe

I broke down in the doctor's office at my first ante-natal appointment. It was a few days after the positive pregnancy test result. A young female doctor asked me, without looking at me or my notes, "Are you planning on continuing with this pregnancy?" Her jumper failed to cover her stomach and she had a can of Diet Coke on her desk. She might have been hung-over, I can't be sure. Ten years younger than me? Fifteen? I knew without being told that she was childless herself. "Have you even bothered to read my notes?" I accused her. "If you had, you'd know how much I want this baby. Of course I want to continue with the pregnancy. It's a question of whether I'll be able to." I burst into tears and waved my hands around my head. Turned to my husband. "See! She doesn't even care enough to read the notes to find out I've had a miscarriage." My husband held my hands, reasoned with me and produced a hanky to mop up my tears. "It's no good," I told him. "They can't help anyway. All they do is tell you the baby's dead, then act like they're morally superior and have a right to tell us what to do. What's the point of this?" The doctor's skin turned a blotchy red colour and I could smell her sweat. "They have to ask questions like this," said my husband. The doctor nodded earnestly. "Whose side are you on here?" I asked my husband.

Since this debacle a senior midwife, a woman whom I like and trust, a bit older than myself, with several children of her own, has handled all my ante-natal care. I'm now seven months pregnant and, with luck, she'll look after me during the birth. She's arranged her annual leave to be here for me around my due date. But, sometimes, when I go to the surgery to see Lorna, the midwife, I spot the doctor chatting with receptionists, tugging at the same bobbly, ill-fitting jumper, smoothing back her hair, laughing too loudly, hanging on what the older doctors are saying, trying to copy their behaviour. Knowing she hasn't got it quite right. And I remember being the same at her age. Yes, even down to bad taste in jumpers. I've apologised to her for my behaviour - and she was alright about it. Said she realised I needed 'more support'. That she'd spent more time reading through my notes. She was sorry too.

I was reminded last week about the difficulty of  younger people's well-meant but sometimes insensitive attempts to offer care, when I met a twenty-something woman who was training to be a 'childbirth educator'. As with the doctor, I knew, the way you do, that she was childless. "You don't have any children of your own, do you?" I asked. No, she didn't. "Do you, errr, not see that as a problem in helping women through childbirth and becoming parents?" No, she didn't. Could she feel my bump, please? No, she could not.

Posted 24 May 2008 11:33

Older mother Miscarriage Health workers Angst

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