I’ve come to realize that in sharing my birthing fears I may have given you, the reader, the sense that I am not comfortable with the plan I have been – more-or-less – going with. And sure, while I may appreciate the care I have received in the past from the lovely midwives I was seen by, I would ultimately agree that in the hands of an OB is probably the best fit given previous circumstances (it’s taken me time to get here, but I am here — in a place of agreeance and acceptance). So the answer, to those who have asked, why I stick with this plan and why I presumably put up with something I’m not entirely comfortable with is because I think it’s best for our current situation. And by “our”, I am including Willy’s wishes and fears as well, because they count too.
As a nurse, I have a better understanding of doctors than most. I get “it”. And though I share much about my OB that I’m not stoked about, I also believe he is the best – for this pregnancy – in terms of delivering this baby safely. He’s not warm and fuzzy, nor does he take the time to review anything from my chart prior to him stepping foot in the room and running through the series of informal questions he without-a-doubt asks every pregnant woman that comes through his door. That said, I also know that it doesn’t matter. Whether he knows my birthing history or not is not going to have an impact, ultimately, when the proverbial push comes to shove and he’s catching my baby. It makes no difference if he knows my pervious babies were large because he’s going to deliver this one the safest way possible regardless.
The thing with birth is that nothing can be predicted; so I get that the birthing experiences I’ve had in the past, no matter how traumatic for Willy and I, have no bearing on this birth. He doesn’t ask about them or remember a damn thing I’ve said about them because he’s privy to the aforementioned truth, too (the truth being that it doesn’t matter, in terms of relating to the significance of this upcoming birth).
That all said, sure, he could have better bedside manner. He could take the 5 seconds it takes to look up what my due date is so he doesn’t have to ask me. He could validate my worries and concerns instead of harshly telling me to “not worry and be positive” as if I’m doing something wrong by expressing and attempting to work through my fears. And if he did all of the above, he’d add a couple extra minutes onto what’s been an average long 6 minute appointment and with those added two minutes, he could simultaneously nurture my trust in him exponentially.
It sucks to leave an appointment and not feel like you were treated as an individual; to feel like your worries are not valid and that your past experiences have little impact on your current situation. But I do feel confident that this baby is in good hands and if it weren’t for the latter, I would find someone I felt more comfortable with. In the end, I know it’s not about a doctor’s conversation skills but in their skill as an OB… and I believe in him in that respect. Thus, why I stay.
Does bedside manner matter to you if you know that the end goal for both parties is the same? Would you change practitioners and perhaps risk having a different outcome all for leaving your appointment actually liking the person you’re seeing?