I posses some strange aversions. For one, I can’t handle the dry sound of fingernails running over fabric without getting shivery goosebumps…ugh I’m thinking about it as I type this and am incredibly grossed out. Certain words rub me the wrong way also, but mostly when people pronounce them in odd ways (ie. “harassment” being pronounced with “hair” as the first syllable and “ess” as the second, or “immature” with a hard “t”). But now I’ve discovered the worst word for something I hope to be fully immersed in for the next year:
Wikipedia: In the term midwife, the morpheme-wife is pronounced as expected (/waɪf/), but midwifery is normally pronounced /mɪdˈwɪfᵊri/ (mid-WIF-(ə)ree).
In other words, wifffff…like wiffle-ball. Gross.
Yes, in honor of finally having health insurance again for the first time in about 4 years, I’ve taken the advice of friends and made an appointment with a midwife/OB-GYN/Registered Nurse Practitioner named Joyce Wilder who runs her own business but partners with doctors at the local hospital (where the births actually take place).
And the best part? She is cool with epidurals!
I’m all for breast-feeding and cloth diapers and Waldorf schools, but don’t expect me to push out a watermelon on no meds. I was a crybaby wuss with all 7 of my tattoos and if the baby takes after me, it will have a huge bowling ball head. Not to mention, I would appreciate a non-relative, female presence in the room to keep me calm. So no natural births for me. In the meantime, I’ll continue reading the blogs of others who’ve chosen to go this route and I am excited to learn more about the role and knowledge of a midwife in general.
Painting is Giotto di Bondone (1267-1337), Cappella Scrovegni a Padova – Depiction of Midwife Salome at the Birth of Christ from My Little Norway