Medicalized pregnancy: my secret opt-out
I was questioning things from my pre-pregnancy life I had always accepted as fact. Moving into the second trimester of pregnancy, I was increasingly uncomfortable with what appeared to be popular rites of pregnancy for their lack of connection to the bigger questions of becoming someone’s mother. While I was open to learning how to behave from those who came before me, I was beginning to sense there were decisions lurking around every corner about which I knew absolutely nothing; and I had yet to scratch the surface of the medical pregnancy.
This feeling was confirmed during my first pre-natal appointment as my midwife, Bridget, took notes about my entire life — family, work, social commitments, medical history, and my feelings about the pregnancy so far. I was at once relieved that she was doing such a thorough investigation of me, and unaware of they way she was beginning to reinforce how I was going to sort through these decisions I felt surrounded by.
She asked if we wanted to have a 12 week ultra-sound — known to us as a routine peak at the fetus which is among the most exciting experiences for those new to the baby game. Yet surprising myself, I found myself asking her, why would we do that? I wanted to have a real dialogue about this decision and what it might mean for my husband, baby and me — emotionally, physically and mentally during my pregnancy and our life afterward. As so began our new dance.
By all medical definitions I am having a low-risk pregnancy. I can hear my brother saying with genuine astonishment, when you can have access to the best healthcare technology in the world, why would you not use it to find out everything you can about your pregnancy? I remember ultra-sound photos proudly displayed on refrigerators, and friends glowing after “seeing” their baby for the first time. And I feel a pull in myself — is it the baby? — begging me to accept what is and save my energy during pregnancy for growing, loving unconditionally and preparing to open my life to this new soul. My head needs to hear the reasons I should have this apparently harmless test, but my heart and soul are fighting for supremacy on this one. I tussle with adding a special need to Chuck’s already huge load as a senior executive expecting a new baby, but then question what is special need is, if it’s just part of who this baby is? Can we pick and choose which parts are ok and which are not? I know people have many good reasons for doing just that and I don’t judge them. But I can’t come up with any really compelling reasons for us. Again, I feel out of step with my sister-in-law and almost every other woman I’ve met who has spoken on the subject.
I was letting go of the idea that knowledge is power and that the answers to my questions lie somewhere “out there”. As I moved through pregnancy there were things I chose to experience, to add to my tool kit or to accept as right for us. Other things I quietly choose to opt out of. I felt like I had a secret which I kept from other mothers who have come before me. Was this a loop hole in the conveyor-belt medicalized pregnancy — that amorphous common denominator for all pregnant women? I did share discretely with people I thought might be receptive to my new find, my way of challenging a medicalized pregnancy. I was especially confident about this sense of abandon when I remembered that my grandmothers before me knew less.