27 weeks with Baby Number 3-A Row with a Midwife

I am all for heralding our amazing NHS and the great work they do but this week, I was so annoyed with one of my community midwives.

I am 27 weeks and went off for a check with the midwives at my doctor’s surgery.

Little G and I arrived in time for my appointment but she came 15 minutes late. These things happen. When I saw it wasn’t my usual midwife though, I wish I had just walked out.

I could feel my blood pressure rising and I knew I would have a battle on my hands.

You see the same thing happened when I was around 28 weeks with G. I saw a different community midwife. I have high blood pressure in pregnancy-it is a side affect of the diabetes I think.

I am on medication for it but I am trying to avoid weekly visits to the Antenatal Day unit until I am well into the third trimester.

Last time, the different midwife sent me off to the antenatal day unit and that was it. I was there every week for the remainder of my pregnancy.

It is hard getting childcare for G and, to be honest, if this is my last pregnancy, the last thing I want to do is spend hours sat on a bed in hospital being monitored for nothing. It was the week before Christmas. I had shopping to do and carol concerts to attend.

It is mind numbingly boring sitting having your blood pressure taken for hours on end and I have too much to do for that. Yet.

So the midwife took my blood pressure which was raised, as predicted and started going on about the antenatal day unit which only served to make the blood pressure rise more.

She was rushing (because she was late) didn’t read my notes, asked questions but didn’t listen properly to the answers and I was getting more and more annoyed.

I think G is a typical 22 month old, into everything. She asked how old he was, said he was big for his age and then said ‘he’s into everything’ which also annoyed me. Then she examined me and said my tummy was bigger than it should be-despite me already saying it was by third (fifth) pregnancy and I had a bit of a belly to start with.

I was getting more and more irate.

When I told her I didn’t have time to go to the Antenatal Day Unit, she said well, your husband will have to take time off to take you. I said he is a farmer. She didn’t care or listen and tried to ask about other family or friends who could have G.

I said there were none and that this was a prime example of people not understanding about farmers.

I can feel myself getting annoyed typing this.

I know my body. I know what it’s like when I’m pregnant. If I was in any way concerned that I was developing pre-pre-eclampsia I would be the first on the phone but I am not.

She had to phone her boss because of my refusal to go and get checked and I flounced out of that room with a bee in my bonnet determined not to be pushed around this pregnancy and I will stick to that.

Had my usual midwife been there who I have seen through most of those other pregnancies, she would have been calm to start with and my blood pressure wouldn’t have risen. If it had been high, she would have made me relax and taken it again.

I am doubting whether to avoid community midwives all together unless I know it is my usual, lovely lady.

I feel like I did the right thing. All too often pregnant women are pushed around and aren’t given options or even have their opinions sought. I felt empowered, yet still angry when I got home to which I got shouted at by Hubster for getting worked up.

My body. My baby. My way. I will enjoy this last pregnancy.