I wasn't very specific in my last post. The upcoming conversation the I had been dreading was with my midwife. The last couple of appointments, I'd had a few physical issues and I was concerned that, because of these things, I was on the verge of risking out of a homebirth.
A part of this fear, I knew, was based in my own history. About this far along in my first pregnancy, I was dangerously close to losing my homebirth because of continued high blood pressure readings. A few weeks later, with great disappointment, I did end up transferring my prenatal care to a hospital-based midwifery practice in the area. I was afraid that this cycle was repeating itself.
Happily, at my appointment yesterday, things were much improved. The conversation went well and my midwife reassured me that she is not going to simply drop me without warning. We also talked about the two most significant ongoing issues. In the case of one, she explained that, ideally, we would get the situation resolved before birth, but even if we didn't it isn't something that would send me to the hospital. As for the other, it could potentially be cause for a transfer, but I am not approaching that point yet.
And, one special thing that God did for me? I had prayed that as I presented my concerns, my midwife would laugh at the absurdity of them. When I told her what I was afraid of, she laughed. Twice.