Midwife appointment today was great. Harpo’s heart was beating away at about 150 bpm (wooshwooshwoosh). Our rapidly-becoming-favorite midwife had done some research (and promised to do more and call us within the next few days) about how we could set up a non-Virginian hospital as our backup, even though that’s not typically done. We went through all the first appointment things, and got a referral for our level 2 ultrasound.
Then we went downstairs to check in with the billing guy. We just wanted to be sure that our insurance would cover a home birth. Turns out our insurance won’t cover their practice at all. Even though we were told that they did when we called to check it out. The (very nice) billing guy is going to look into it and get back to us. However, our hopes are not high on this one.
So, our only birth option is hospital with OB. I’m glad that we get to have this dilemma. Much better than last year’s “so how long is it going to take for the betas to go down and how long before we should start worrying about the whole cancer risk thing” dilemma. Still, it’s pretty crankifying. Why is our health care system so stupid and &*^%^&*ing lawsuit driven? Why is it so hard to have the type of prenatal care and birth that we want?
But the heart is still beating and a week from today we get to see our kid in detail. Until then, I’m just trying to avoid the panicked thoughts about missing organs or lack of limbs. Happy 19 weeks, Harpo.