**** Ok, after working on my acceptance, I've sheepishly calmed the hell down. The hospital DID call me back. The client liason officer named Alexis, to be precise. She apologised for the mix-up, and said that both doctors will be spoken to. She then gave me a new c-section date ... of the 23rd May. One day AFTER my actual due date. I went ballistic .... I told her, obviously the doctor knows that I am likely to go into labour before then? And that would mean an emergency caesar? I told her it appeared Dr Stinky had washed his hands of me. She told me to "have a cup of tea" (!!!!!!!!) ... and a midwife will call me back. I then rang Mr TC, a ranting raving looney. I had seriously lost the plot by then.
A midwife called me back - saying sorry, but Alexis the liason officer had told me the wrong date ... I now have a c-section date of Monday, the 19th May. It's like, beyond ridiculous. I've given up, pulled my head in, and decided to suck it up. There are much worse things that could be happening. I am really, very grateful to have made it this far. Just frustrated about how I have been treated - if they aren't telling me there's something wrong with the heartbeat, they are YELLING at me for changing the date. Dr Stinky is likely not going to do the caesar, a completely different doctor who I have never met will.
Mr TC was FURIOUS. I feel like running into Dr Stinkys office tomorrow and yelling "ANYWAY, MY HUSBAND WANTS TO PUNCH YOU OUT." That'll teach him.
The funniest thing has been my sister Tees reaction to all the bullshit today. She says if they change the date again, SHE will go into labour. She wants to ring the hospital and tell them that Dr Stinky STINKS. And she said that Monkey is most likely sitting in there, laughing away, thinking "None of these pricks even know I'll be born tomorrow anyway!!"
(Whenever Monkey does come, she will post straight away.)
*************** End of update
I don't believe I have complained much, during the last 9 months. Please allow me to make up for that now.
I AM SO FUCKING ANGRY.
A routine doc appontment with Dr Stinky Eyelashes today, he sees that the different doc of last week has booked my c-section for next Wednesday, 14th May. He starts shaking his head, saying "No, no, no, this will not do. You must go until the 20th May, as planned."
Straight away I was annoyed. I asked, why do different people keep telling me different things? He was SUCH A RUDE PRICK, raises his voice at me, basically accusing me of changing the date behind his back, walked out of the office mid-conversation to talk to the midwife on duty. I lost it.
I am just so tired of .... everything, actually. Of the worry and panic I keep feeling, of people staring at me like I'm a freak, of being petrified at 2 'o'clock in the morning of how drastically a baby is going to change all of our lives, of having no sleep for the next year, of being treated like some dumb idiot by every medical person that I see.
So the doc and I exchanged some heated pleasantries for a while, the midwife comes in to try and diffuse the situation. I kept saying to him .. "But why are you blaming me? This is not my fault! I didn't change the date, I got TOLD yet another different date." The midwife was explaining to me that if he did do the c-section two days ... even one day before 39 weeks, he will get hauled before the administrator to explain why. So basically, he has to cover his arse. (On the 14th May I will be 38 weeks 6 days).
Of course I understand that. At one point I just glared at him, and said "I AM THE ONE PREGNANT HERE!! I AM NOT JUST A NUMBER, YOU KNOW."
In the end, he was scowling like a slapped arse, flicking angrily through his calender. "Well I SUPPOSE, if you INSIST, the c-section can be done on Thursday the 15th or Friday the 16th."
Fuck you, c*nt. I grabbed my bag and stormed out of his office, my cowboy boots clapping furiously down the corridor. The midwives watched me go. I am home now, I don't expect anyone to ring to organise anything. Dr Stinky Eyelashes is not coming anywhere near me with a scalpel.
At this point, I'm seriously considering dragging Tigers wading pool out from under the house, filling it up, and havin' me a good old-fashioned water birth.
Have I mentioned that I don't even WANT a c-section? That because I had one with Tiger, I have no choice now? Unless I drive over an hour away to a bigger hospital that has recently had a ton of press coverage about it's overworked, understaffed maternity wing. Yay for choices.
Where I'm at right now? Do nothing, and wait for my waters to break.
I thought birth was supposed to be a joyous experience. ARSEHOLES.