We walked into the tiny check up room that day. God, I remember it as if it were only yesterday. My other half and I had already had the conversation multiple times over. This was our little window of time to ask what we had been wondering.
You see, we don't own a car, so of course, being first time parents, we were trying to cover all angles and put the question forward. We asked very casually, about the possibility of getting an ambulance should we feel the need to when the time comes.
We lived 49kms away, had no car and of course there weren't many offers of driving a pregnant woman in at any given time, especially if it were in traffic for instance, and let's face it, Dublin can be a daunting drive for many so I wouldn't blame them, I certainly wouldn't fancy it!
And for such a very simple question, I have to say, the response given totally took me back, and to this day I know I should have said something, but little did I know I would encounter this sort of attitude again after this, which I have spoken about in the past.
"I wouldn't recommend it."
"If you turn up here in an ambulance you'll only embarrass yourself and waste people's time."
I'm pretty sure I was speechless.
Even after a less than delightful mini scan, wavering the doppler over my clearly scarred tummy, it was clear she just didn't want to be there, and didn't want to know. And now, that was being put onto us, soon to be brand new parents.
People could ask why didn't I just go for the closest hospital to me, but it wasn't as simple as that to us, and the decision wasn't taken lightly.
It was especially my partner who was concerned about how my body would cope with carrying a child, and what may come our way, which I too had personal worries about, being born with Spina Bifida myself, which also meant my birth plan changed slightly too.
A thorough talk through with our wonderful doctor confirmed that this place was THE place to go, to put minds at rest, to be in the safest of hands. And all of a sudden, I didn't feel so safe.
Was I the drama queen for choosing a hospital further away? Should I just have to put up, and shut up? Was it right that I had to one day, sit across from a lady who had just miscarried, as she was squeezed in between midwives checkups in a room full of very pregnant women? Even after I had my baby, being told to stop my crying because I had nothing to cry over, still rings in my head. In life, you need to choose your words wisely. Your actions too.
Pregnancy is not a hindrance, and neither are people. Being pregnant is a seriously trying time for a lot of people, and for every single person, you don't know what's around the corner.
There are a lot of lucky parents with beautifully healthy babies. And then there are those who unfortunately miscarry in any stage of pregnancy, have a stillborn after not even having a doubt in their minds that they were to hold their baby forever in their arms, and not in their thoughts.
Cot death takes young to older infants, with a parent unknowingly kissing them at night, expecting to see them well and alive the next day. You cannot judge someone for being careful or worried about the future they do not know about yet.
It all brings me back to the caring profession and how much it sometimes lacks in my eyes.
What is your experience of this?
