Thursday, January 13, 2005

Sage-Femme

Alors... Today we went to the midwife. (I also went to the dentist. All along I have thought I hated the dentist, when I really hate the hygienist.) The midwife, unlike the lawyer, makes me more excited and less scared. We had quite a few questions, and even though she didn't know the answer, she was willing to look. In fact, when Partner was changing into her beautiful blue open back gown (socks on!), the midwife emailed another midwife in the practice in search of some answers. In fact, she said she emailed this other midwife and said, "We gotta get together and talk!" I like that. I like women. (Understatement, perhaps?)

Some of the questions:
  1. [deleted]
  2. [deleted]
  3. [deleted]
  4. Does the U-hospital have an alternative birthing unit? (No?!?!)
  5. Have you treated lesbians before? Does it bother you?

Whew. That's a short list of what we really asked, but she didn't know answers for any of the sperm questions, except to tell us what we already knew. (See above: regarding "fresh") . Sigh. I wanted answers about sperm. Still, it felt productive, and good to have this preliminary appointment completed.

One question that I asked, and surprised myself with, was "Are there any men in your midwife collective?" Now, in November, Partner was visiting a good friend in another state who had some other lesbian friends visit and rage about men who wanted to become midwives. And when Partner told me about this, I thought it sounded ridiculous. Who cares if a man wants to become a midwife? If he is drawn to what midwives stand for, and feels that is his calling, I don't think he should be denied. Fair play, I say. Go for it. I know some pretty damn sensitive men that I would love to have as a midwife. More sensitive than some ob/gyns I have been to in my thirty-two years. For example: As a younger person, I was really quite athletic, and in particular, a swimmer. A butterflier. I lifted weights. I was fit. Then I went to the ob/gyn who told me there was no way she could examine my breasts because they were too lumpy. They are FIBROUS! Not very big at the time, (unlike now!) and I walked out of there feeling awful. Abnormal. My damn boobs. What an insensitive doctor. Did it make a difference she was a women? No. Was she anymore sensitive to my plight as a young woman? No. See?

So, why would such a question pop out of my mouth today? It totally made me sound separatist and way more militant than I am. I like men! I don't care! In fact, if she'd there were male midwives in their group, I probably would have wanted to meet them!

My question didn't phase her, and neither did my stammering about it afterwards, where I hemmed and hawed about how it didn't matter, and blah blah blah whatever other banalities came out of my mouth. She just nodded, and smiled, this little wise smile. I liked her, and decided I liked others of her ilk too.

She is the sage-femme.

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