The fact that I lived in Germany for over 17 years probably wasn't too
helpful for my frustraton this morning, but the fact that I've also lived other
places that are culturally VERY different from Germany did temper that some, and
that I'm fascinated by languages and trying hard to learn Greek also made the
morning not entirely a waste of time.
Four weeks ago I went to the hospital for a pre-natal check-up, mostly just
because I wanted an ultrasound to have some idea of a due date, not being at all
sure. (When I said I really didn't know how far I was, the doctor looked down
again at my paperwork, listing all eight previous pregnancies, raised his
eyebrows, and said something like, "By now you really ought to have some idea.")
The baby's head-rump measurement spit out an age of 11 weeks (well, 9 weeks for
the baby, 11 weeks as doctors count), due date June 15th, 2010. Anyway, I was
there last time for 2 1/2 hours for a total of less than five minutes with the
doctor, and as I was leaving, there was a near-riot going on in the waiting
area, with dozens of pregnant women yelling at a man in hospital clothes. While
I myself had been waiting, women had been comparing their appointment times, and
there were several with 9:00, one with 9:20, and several with 9:30. That was
after 10:00 when they were looking at them--and I didn't even have an
appointment at all, being told one wasn't necessary. After several women who had
definitely arrived after I had had elbowed their way in, five women (two
English, two Cypriot, and one who spoke neither English nor Greek but agreed
with the others that I should definitely be next) pushed me in the next time the
door opened. Quite an experience. Anyway, I'm glad I was out of there before the
riot started, but felt bad for all the others still stuck there.
In any case, I let myself be talked into going back today for another
check-up, with the idea that if the baby's size four weeks later still matched
that due date, I'd be reassured of the due date, as I'd been told that I'd have
another ultrasound. Also, I know someone whose twins were NOT seen at 12 weeks,
so it was good to confirm today that there IS only one baby! But the doctor
didn't take any measurements today, just checked the heartbeat, then as he
turned off the ultrasound machine said, "How many sons and daughters do you
have?" I told him, and then he said, "Well, it looks like you might have--" and
I quickly interrupted him and said "Don't tell me! I don't want to know!" He was
rather surprised at that, and then said that he wasn't really sure, anyway, but
IF I go back at all, I'll be sure to mention BEFORE they start that I don't want
to know the baby's gender!
But I really, really don't want to go back. I had been given "the first
appointment", at 7:30 this morning. I was indeed the first person there--the
doctor and an assistant didn't arrive until 8:20. But shortly after I arrived,
other pregnant women started arriving. That's where the language practice came
in, because happily, the first one to arrive spoke very little English, in fact,
not more than I speak Greek. So although I'd officially learned how to tell time
in Greek on paper, I could never remember it, but now I can. :-) It's her first
baby and she's in the ninth month, and she had an appointment for 8:00. The next
woman to arrive didn't sit down with us, but went and stood right at the door to
the room where they take blood pressure and weight. The one after that was
another Cypriot who spoke little English, then a Muslim woman arrived, then
another who didn't talk, and then a Nigerian who spoke no Greek at all, but
English, and had her six-month-old son with her.
By 8:15 there were 10 of us, and then at 8:20 the assistant went into her
office, and lady number 3 had pushed her way into the room before anyone else
could react. However, the rest of us (those who were sitting--there are only six
chairs--as well as the others standing around) quickly moved over to the door,
leaving most of the chairs empty--one was still occupied by a father. When the
door opened, two women tried to push in front of me but I managed to slip in.
My blood pressure was taken and I was weighed (just like last time, the doctor's
scale gives me four more kilos that my scale--I like my scale MUCH better!!),
was scolded for not having had an amniocentesis (I'd declined four weeks ago,
which the doctor hadn't had a problem with), was handed my file, and got to go
wait in the hallway again to get into the doctor's office. Arrival number 4 was
the third one into the assistant's office, arrival number 2 was the fourth one
in, I didn't pay attention after that, as I was enjoying chatting with the
English woman I had met four weeks ago.
When arrival number 3 (who had gotten in first) was finished with the doctor,
at 8:50, I managed to be the next one into the doctor's office. He did his best
to impress on me the importance of the 20-week ultrasound, and I told him that I
already have an appointment with my doctor in Germany (who will actually TALK
with me) for the end of January, had the very quick scan, was given an
appointment for February (which I don't have much intention of keeping), and was
out of there again at 8:53. Not quite an hour and a half, so certainly better
than last time.
When I got home, I called the three phone numbers I'd been given (by a lady
who now lives in the U.K., but whose homebirth story I'd found by googling
"homebirth Cyprus", as she had her baby at home in Cyprus two years ago) of a
doula and two midwives who are reputed to attend homebirths. I left a message
with one midwife's voicemail and there weren't any answers from the other two,
but the doula called me back almost immediately. She's leaving on vacation
tomorrow, but we're going to talk again in February, and she sounded quite
encouraging.
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