Obstetricians and midwives have heard it all. They deal daily with women who are excited and terrified, and trying to cling on to whatever control they can muster.
“Can you ask all of the medical staff in the room to whisper?”
“Can I bring my birthing swing with me?”
“Is it alright if my husband is naked, too?”
But apparently, they had never heard this one before.
See, my mate, let’s call her Lucy (because that’s not her name), already has a daughter, who was born via emergency c-section after a laundry-list of strange goings-on when they attempted to induce her shortly after her due date.
And this time, for a similar list of reasons, her doctor and midwives have recommended that she opted for a scheduled C. She has agreed.
But Lucy likes surprises. Despite being a supremely organised, A-type high-achiever, she is also a woman who likes a little romance in her life.
So, for her, she didn’t want to know the date, the sex, the name. She wanted a touch of mystery. It was important to her.
Listen to what she’s asked her doctors, here:
And so she cooked up a plan. The doctor and midwives would tell Lucy’s husband the date and time of the baby’s arrival. But he wouldn’t tell her.
Then, unless anything “happened” naturally along the way, one morning she would be woken up early, he would tell her that they were off to hospital, and there would be a friend at the front door to take their little daughter to school.
Neat, right? Winners all around, yes?
Well, yes, other than than the fact that all the medical professionals think my friend is crazy.
“You know,” said her obstetrician, an experienced man in his 50s. “No-one has ever asked me that before.”
Her midwife looked at her and asked “Are you absolutely sure about that?”
They say they have never been asked to keep such a secret before.
They say, in all their many years of looking after pregnant women, no-one ever asked them for LESS information, rather than MORE.
Is it really so unusual to want a little mystery around one of the most profound things that will ever happen to you?
You tell us. Is my friend’s request strange?
Also on This Glorious Mess with Andrew Daddo and I this week: Just how smart do you have to be to raise a child and can you flatly refuse to volunteer and your child’s school?