The comfort factor

I made a wonderful discovery while visiting Nova Scotia:

Maternity jeans.

These magical pants, they look like regular jeans (er, as long as you don't tuck your shirt in), but they feel like yoga pants. Miraculous! I'm still able to fit into some of my jeans -- thanks to the super-low waisted styles of recent years -- but I didn't realize that they weren't that comfortable until I found the maternity jean.

I may never go back. I'm hardly even kidding. Julie (who also got a pair -- different brand and style, but similar comfort wow-factor) and I are trying to convince our fellas that they, too, should consider the maternity jean for themselves. No takers yet.

It was a great trip - I ate too many cookies, managed to fit in a run on the country roads, beat my mom in scrabble (just barely), slept in every day, and procured a fabulous recipe for baked oatmeal. As usual, we wished we could stay another week.

Today, our first day back, we had our first appointment with the midwife. I was very very very looking forward to this appointment, during which we would meet the midwife for the first time, and get on this whole "prenatal care" bandwagon.

The appointment was... not what I expected. I've spent the better part of the day trying to figure it out. I think I've got it now: my expectations were ridiculous.

In a weird twist of fate, I am "related" to or pretty good friends with no less than five midwives. All of them are fantastic women who I adore and respect. They comprise an obstetric dream team. When I imagine my pre-natal care, I imagine a clinical relationship just like the relationships I have with these women. How unrealistic is that? Pretty much anything after that figment is going to be disappointing.

So, in an attempt to not be disappointed, I've been trying to put it in perspective. I did not get a negative impression from my midwife. She was very friendly. She was nice. She was not really a person I'm likely to be pals with, but a) how could I tell on first impression, and b) why, really, should I expect -- or even want -- that from a clinician? She didn't ask me many questions, didn't really seem to make an effort to get a feel for my situation, but then, I have the most incredibly boring medical history on the face of the earth ("no" to everything that could possibly complicate anything including allergies - same for family members), AND I don't even have any weird pregnancy things going on. And I was totally relaxed. And I kinda mentioned that I was reading the midwifery textbook instead of "What to Expect When Expecting" - which may have told her all she needed to know. ;-)

Céline dropped by to pick up Constance (who comes home after school now, rather than going to daycare), and asked how it when. When I told her that I was verging on disappointed, she pointed out to me that given the health care sitch in the Ottawa-Outaouais region (ie: hard to get a doc, even harder to get a midwife), I might not be able to get the very specific care I dream of, and should feel lucky to have what I have. (She said this very gently and diplomatically, of course.)

Very, very good point. Long story short, (or to cut short a long story), pondering this idea it took me back to feeling happy and excited about how this is all working out. And if I'm ever in doubt, there's always The Bookclub (ie: aforementioned obstetric dream team).