The Birth Story of Miriam

Today is Miriam’s second birthday. Following suit, I’m posting her birth story on her second birthday, as I did Elyas’. It’s a good way for me to relive those moments, some of the hardest and best of my life, and let you in on a such a monumental event.

To start with Elyas’ birth story, my first, click here.

Preamble

One winter day in 2022, I was 6 days past my due date with baby #2, a girl.

She was due on 2/15, and I had this silly, yet completely serious, wish that baby girl would be born on 2/22/22, which would be exactly 1 week after my due date. Maybe at 2:22 and 22 seconds, maybe weighing 8lbs2oz and 22 inches long. She was, after all, our 2nd baby…and I was getting pretty close to getting my wish. With the date, anyway.

At my appointment on 2/18 the midwife checked me, but I was only 1cm dilated and 80% effaced. She suggested I have an induction scheduled; they didn’t want me going much past 41 weeks because I had had Covid during this pregnancy. I agreed, thinking the induction would be scheduled for next week, but that baby would most likely come on her own before then. I was unpleasantly surprised when I got the call informing me of an induction for 2/20, in just 2 days. I didn’t feel ready. I cried. The nurse was very understanding, and suggested I call the hospital to see if their scheduling had more availability than what she was seeing. I did, and changed the induction to 2/23, giving baby more time to come on her own.

The morning of 2/21, labor commences

I woke up on 2/21 still not in labor, yet wanting to get things going, with an induction hanging over my head. Having labor start naturally was important to me. Around 10am I went to my chiropractor, who gave me one final crack, the one to supposedly kick start labor. I then went for my daily walk, at Sam’s Club with my mom. Some Braxton Hicks were starting to happen more regularly, and we started noting their time.

We got home, I gave Elyas some lunch and got him down for his nap. I took a shower and laid down for a nap also, since around 1pm contractions were happening regularly enough I decided this very well could be it! By 4pm contractions were getting strong enough that I wasn’t able to sleep, and even had to start utilizing some breath. When Elyas woke up from his nap my husband kept him busy, and I was able to take it easy, lay down again, and work through the contractions that were increasing in intensity. My mom stayed by me, timing the contractions. I was excited, knowing baby would be here soon, after waiting so long for labor to start! Not to mention, I was getting comfortably close to a 2/22 birth day. Labor was getting harder, but also felt manageable, relatively speaking. After an almost 24 hr labor, mostly back labor with Elyas, this labor felt very doable.

A significant snow and ice storm was predicted to start at 7pm, so we also had it in our minds that we should be going to the hospital before the roads became too bad, or even impassable.

Active labor

Shortly before the storm was supposed to start, my mom was starting to get anxious, noticing how much harder and faster the contractions seemed to be coming: only 2-5 minutes apart, for over an hour. She went and got my husband, saying she thought it would be prudent to head to the hospital ASAP. She gently brought me back from my very inward-focused state of mind on the couch, and I agreed with her it was a good time to go to the hospital.

I did some last minute things to get ready, riding out contractions as needed. Now, enter my mom, who was becoming increasingly worried that I wasn’t going to make it to the hospital, and couldn’t believe I was taking the time to curl my eyelashes. Yes, that was important to me, since labor started so fast and furious with Elyas that I did not have the capability of taking a shower, so I showed up to the hospital in an….unkempt state. I did not want a repeat of that. I was determined to show up neat, clean, and ready, curled eyelashes and all, to the hospital!!

Off to the hospital, water breaks

We got to the hospital by 7:15pm and parked. Despite the entrance being close, I was having a hard time getting inside. I had only a few contractions on the drive there (praise the Lord because I really dread the transfer to the hospital in labor, having to be strapped in a sitting position), then 1 contraction as soon as I got out of the car, another walking up to the entrance where I had to stop and lean on my husband. We stopped at the security entrance and I was interrupted mid conversation by another contraction (husband didn’t speak much English at that point so I was doing most of the talking). We were quickly directed around the corner to the labor and delivery ward. We got to the locked doors of the maternity ward and I rang the bell to be buzzed in. Just as a nurse over the intercom crackled a “hello?” A hard contraction hit me and my water broke, Hollywood style, soaking my pants, boots, and christening the carpet. (Who puts carpet in a maternity ward, anyway??) Another “hello??” came over the intercom. I forced myself to speak, pretty sure something like, “hi just a second I’m having a contraction and my water just broke” squeaked out. Another hard contraction ensued. The voice continued to “hello” me despite my having told her, or at least I thought she would understand, that I’m in the middle of a contraction(s), my water just broke, she’s going to have to wait a second for me to speak eloquently to her. The contraction subsided and I was able to say again, “hi I’m here and in labor”, and we got buzzed in.

We made it to the reception desk where they started asking me questions; what’s my name, did they know I was coming, etc. I had to keep working through contractions every couple of minutes since being in an upright position kept them coming steady and hard. When they were done asking questions they said they were going to take me down to triage where I would get a Covid test. I told them I didn’t think I was going to be able to make it down to wherever this blessed “triage” was, could it come to me? Apparently it couldn’t, but they told me not to worry, it wasn’t too far. They lead me just down the hall to a small room where a nurse wanted to weigh me. I didn’t think that getting my weight was all that important, given the circumstances. While I was on the scale admiring the impressively high number, I had another ever harder contraction, and I told the nurse calmly, “I think I’m starting to push.” I didn’t get much of a reaction, so when another contraction came on and the urge to push, I exclaimed, “I’m pushing!” The nurses were probably still trying to read me, thinking I’m just another woman in labor who’s probably still only 1cm dilated, acting it up. One of them asked if I thought I could walk to my room, it was just at the end of the hall, or if I wanted a wheel chair. I stubbornly said that I could walk.

I didn’t get very far, as the contractions seemed to be coming back to back and I just. Couldn’t. Seem. To. Get. To the. Room. I could not will my body there, no matter how I tried. I could hear a couple of nurses conferring behind me, talking about getting me into the nearest room, the one I was just outside of, rather than the room they had prepared for me. Finally they brought a wheel chair and I conceded to be wheeled into the room that was, frustratingly, a few feet away. It’s a good thing, because I very well could have had the baby right there in the hall had I persisted!

Finally in a room

Once in the room and still in the wheel chair, they administered the Covid test. I was dismayed that this nurse was quite exacting when it came to leaving the swab up each nostril for the full 15 seconds, wondering how I could safely work through a contraction without accidentally moving and jabbing the swab up into my brains. The Lord was gracious and I did NOT have a contraction during the Covid test! The test came back negative.

The nurses then asked if I would like to get on the bed (oh boy would I!), and I asked if I could change my clothes first. The nurses commented “oh you are sopping wet!!” as they helped me out of my pants, and I realized they either didn’t know or had forgotten the fact that my water had broken dramatically at the doors, and yes, I was still in my very wet clothes. Dry socks and a hospital gown have never felt so good!

10cm

Laying down felt wonderful, and the contractions slowed down a bit; a much needed reprieve. When the midwife came in, she checked me, and informed me that I was complete (10cm) and baby was in a -1 station. I told them I would like to wait until I felt the urge to push. They agreed. I wanted to rest after that hard entrance!

It was now after 8pm and we were settled enough that my husband finally got to Facetime my mom, so she could be “present”. I eventually found my happy place on my R side, calmly working through the contractions that kept coming hard, but without the urge to push. Now, I had read stories through the Spinning Babies site and such about women who, when experiencing natural and unmedicated labor, actually had a lull in their labor at 10cm and were able to take a nap before pushing. While laying still felt “relatively” wonderful, I certainly wasn’t drifting off to sleep. The midwife checked in on me periodically, staying close, wondering if I was ready to push yet. I still wasn’t.

Almost 2 hours since arriving at the hospital and still hanging out fully dilated

It got to be after 9pm, and I was still working through contractions quietly on my side. The nurse asked if I needed to use the bathroom (having a full bladder can sometimes inhibit baby from descending). I did not need to nor want to use the bathroom. Did they want me to have the baby in the toilet? I knew that moving would bring on the urge to push, I just wasn’t sure if I felt quite ready yet mentally to go through pushing. I was still comfy on my side with the peanut ball when the midwife approached me. She was concerned that if I kept holding off, I might not be able to control my pushing and tear. As not tearing was something I also hoped to experience, I agreed. Now this whole time my husband was still holding my phone for my mom to be FaceTimed in. I looked over at the phone and asked my mom, “well, should we have a baby??” I don’t think my mom heard, but that’s alright. Earlier I had talked through pushing positions with the midwife and opted for hands and knees. I got into position, with movement bringing on the hardest contractions and a stronger urge to push.

Baby is born!

I started pushing at 9:20pm, and Miriam was born at 9:31pm. Less than 2 1/2 hrs away from 2/22/22, hahaha!

Instant joy and exuberance, Miriam Jeannie was here, finally! That labor was a DREAM after my first. I joked that I now could fathom having twins, I could have done round 2!

Baby is too purple

Joy quickly turned to concern when Miriam, who had taken her first breath a second too soon and inhaled some mucous, was dark purple and still not breathing properly or pinking up. She cried a little, and they handed her to me, but she still was a frighteningly beautiful shade of purple. The nurses and midwife continued to rub her back and suction her, and she was making some improvements, but slowly. They called in a NICU team to assess her, just in case. Hubby cut the cord, much later than usual after the excitement, and the NICU team looked her over and suctioned some mucous out of her lungs. She looked and was breathing well enough finally that they didn’t need to take any further action. I got my roly poly baby girl back after a few minutes, and finally, the bliss of holding my new baby in my arms, this new little wonder, a precious gift. A first meeting.

The two hours after birth, I now completely understand why they are often called the “golden hours”. That feeling, the immense work, mental concentration, determination, prayer, literal blood, sweat, and tears….to utter joy and RELIEF. 9 months of knowing that your baby is coming but first, labor…and then you made it and you’re shaking, and you have your precious new baby in your arms to gaze at and memorize all their features...and after 9 months, you get to REST. Physically. Mentally. The bubbling over of joy and thankfulness that your baby is here, safe, and healthy. The pride you feel knowing YOU DID IT. And being able to physically rest like you haven’t been able to rest in the last how many hours and months? You’re not working up to labor, you’re not getting bigger and heavier; you’re now healing. Soaking in the soreness in your newly postpartum body. Those hours, these immense emotions, are some of the moments I will treasure in my heart for all my days. 

Baby stats

Miriam weighed 8lbs 11oz at birth and was 20 3/4 inches long. I did tear again, as I now had 2 for 2 babies come out with a hand by their face, but I did not feel the midwife stitching me up this time like I did in Italy. We stayed two nights in the hospital, mostly because we didn’t want to be discharged at 10pm at night. So we stayed and ate delicious (ahem) hospital food and cuddled our baby girl while the snow and ice storm raged outside. It was a good day to have a baby. And while I may have desired Miriam to be born on 2/22/22, a nurse later told me that Miriam was the only one born on 2/21/22, while 6 babies were born on 2/22/22. Miriam was unique, and showed her stubborn and wonderful personality right from the get go!

Happy Birthday, Miriam Jeannie! Oh, how you are loved!

Finding "Premaman" Maternity Clothes in Italy

You’re pregnant, you’re excited, and now you have to figure out what to wear and what you’ll need!

For a first-time mamma, if you’re anything like me (ahem, overly detailed and analytical) even a seemingly simple task like picking out some maternity clothes can feel overwhelming and unnecessarily time consuming; even more so when you’re in a foreign country.

When will I actually need new clothes? Do I want over or under the bump pants? Is maternity underwear actually necessary? How much should I budget for clothes that may only get worn for 9 months, maybe less? How will I know what size bras to get, if my size is supposed to get bigger, but I don’t know how big?? Where do I find maternity clothes in Italy, anyway?

If this is your first pregnancy and would like some ideas on how to select maternity clothes, I will soon have an article for you!

If you’ve already been pregnant but this is your first baby in Italy, then you probably already know what you want, you just need to know where to find it!

Below you’ll find some of my favorite maternity choices in Italy!

This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase using these links, Jennyblogs may receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you. This helps to support Jennyblogs. For further information see the privacy policy. Grazie!

shopping for maternity clothes in the time of covid: no tourists, no people


Where to Find Maternity Clothes

US Amazon Maternity

While this is primarily written with mamas in Italy at heart, many of these sites can be used by anyone in Europe, the US, or even beyond, since they are online sites with European or international shipping. Others are actually US based, but do offer international shipping. Maybe the most obvious is Amazon, which can be shopped in many countries, although their merchandise varies greatly from country to country.

These sites are listed roughly in order of ease of shopping and returning. While I try and indicate if shipping and returns are free, please check the site’s policy as it may have changed since this post was written.

  1. H&M Italy

    Yes, H&M has maternity wear! They have decent prices, although I’ve watched them go up since Covid, with inflation and H&M transitioning to more “sustainable” practices, but still definitely some of the lower priced items with decent quality.

    I highly recommend their maternity underwear and nursing bras, very comfortable and bits of lace so they still feel feminine.

    If you become a member you get free shipping for orders over €30 and free returns. Keep an eye out for sales which they have very frequently, the biggest sale usually being 30% off for Black Friday. The rest of the time they frequently have 15%, 20%, or 25% you can snag pretty easily. As a general rule, I don’t buy anything if it’s not on sale. The downside is their stock sells out very quickly, so if there is something you really really like, sometimes you just have to buy it, sale or not.

    The H&M store in Florence by Ponte Vecchio does not carry maternity, intimates, or children’s clothing in store.

  2. Zalando.it

    Zalando is great. It’s like an Amazon, but for clothing and accessories. My shopping experience in Italy took an uptick for the better when I discovered Zalando, pregnant or not. For the most part, Italy has great in-person shopping, but stores’ online presence and shopping is minimal. When there was something I needed but just couldn’t find, or couldn't get out much (due to Covid restrictions, having a newborn, etc.), I could almost always find something on Zalando. It has a vast selection of clothes, many top brands, and a section just for expecting moms and even baby clothing.

    They offer convenient shipping and returns, with most orders over €28.90 including free shipping. If your order is under or includes items coming from long distance, then shipping will be €4.95. Returns are free, simply take them to any PosteItaliane or even schedule a pick up at your house.

  3. Amazon.it

    Yes, Amazon, too! There is something about shopping for clothing on Amazon that I find very dissatisfying, but it’s always an option! I bought my first set of maternity underwear and nursing bras from Amazon. They were comfortable and definitely the least expensive option, but they didn’t last the longest, either. In short, if you have a limited budget like I did, they served their purpose well, but if you’re able, opt for higher quality if you can.

    Free shipping on orders over €35, and free returns most of the time, too, per usual Amazon standard.

  4. Seraphine

    This is a site based in the UK, and shopped at by royalty, as you can see on their site. Could be fun, wearing something that Kate Middleton also wore! Ultimately I have never boughten anything from them, even though they have some pieces I really like, since there was a small shipping cost, plus customs, and I had no idea what their clothes would fit like.

    Standard shipping to Italy is €4.95, plus potential customs fees, with free returns.

  5. Envie de Fraise

    This is a lovely French maternity brand that I bought my maternity dresses from.

    Free shipping to Italy for orders over €60, it looks as though returns may be at expense of customer, but I’m not sure. I actually exchanged 2 dresses for different sizes, and at the time I remember the returns being free. It may have changed, though. Their site looks as though it’s transitioning over to “vertbaudet”.

  6. Nothing Fits But

    I only just discovered this South Korean based brand in the past year, but they have some of the absolute loveliest dresses out there, that can easily be worn before and after maternity as well as during and for nursing. They are pricier with most dresses costing over $100, but they are light, and quality made. Wait for their sales and it won’t make as big of a dent. When I bought my dress, I found the one I wanted on sale, plus a matching dress for my daughter and a nursing/maternity sweater, plus shipping since I didn’t spend enough, and the total was still under $100. I got a pretty good deal!

    The US Amazon sells some Nothing Fits But dresses, although for a bit more money than the Nothing Fits But site. BUT Amazon offers free shipping and free returns, where Nothing Fits But does not until a much higher threshold. Reviews on their sizing was quite varied which left me uncertain what size I would like most, so I ended up ordering the two dresses I was eyeing from Amazon to figure out which size I was. At that point the same dress on Nothing Fits But went on sale, so I took advantage of Amazon’s generous return policy and returned both of the dresses, then bought the one I wanted on sale from Nothing Fits But.

    Free worldwide shipping on orders over $200USD, returns at cost of customer.

  7. Pink Blush Maternity

    Pink Blush has a wide assortment of maternity wear, from cute dresses to comfy sweaters. I’ve never bought anything from them, although I was tempted in Italy, but again I didn’t want to deal with not being able to do returns or pay potential customs fees.

    They have frequent sales, a generous 25% off your first order when you sign up for email, and a good Black Friday Sale.

    International shipping varies by order total, starting at $10.99. Customer is responsible for any customs once they arrive in Italy or destination country.

  8. HATCH Collection

    If you have a more generous budget for maternity wear, check out HATCH. Their prices are beyond my budget, but I’ve heard and read good things about them, and they certainly have some nice looking pieces!

    International shipping looks to be a flat rate of $50, customs to be paid by customer. International returns could be an option, they say to contact them for more info, but per any international return, it would probably be a good wait and costly.

  9. Stowaway Collection

    I came across this brand recently, a mother-daughter duo based in NYC. I haven’t ordered anything from them, but they have a lovely collection of very comfy, minimal looking dresses and pieces.

    They can ship internationally to Italy, with DHL, pricing determined by DHL.

  10. Bae the Label

    Another brand with sharp looking maternity clothes, not always an easy feat! They are an Australian brand, so even if you’re in the States you’ll be paying for international shipping.

    They offer free international shipping on orders over AUD$350, or a flat rate of $35 for anything less than that.

You may notice that this list is solidly online shopping. That’s because I never did find any maternity wear worth mentioning on this list in any stores around Florence. Of course, it also didn’t help that the peak time I was shopping for and needed maternity clothes was during the 2020 Covid lockdown. You could try La Rinascente in the center, off of Piazza della Repubblica, but their prices are usually higher since they stock a lot of designer brands.

If you know of any good “premaman” clothing stores around Florence, send me a message or leave a comment and I’d be happy to add it to this list!

Pregnancy Exercise: Walking in the Tuscan Hills once the covid mandate to stay home had been lifted


Italian Hospital Bag Checklist: What Not to Pack

You have birth support people picked out. You have your birth plan typed up. Your hospital bag has been packed since your 28th week. Your freezer is full to capacity with frozen dinners (and cookies). You’ve been doing your Spinning Babies exercises. You’ve asked your mom/friends a hundred questions just in the last week, and Google a couple hundred more. You’ve read every birth story you can get your hands on. You’re so ready.

The beautiful thing about birth is that you never know what will happen. Each woman, birth, and baby is different. If you’re a first time mom like me, you can do everything in the world to prepare, but nothing will truly prepare you for the experience until you actually experience it. And that’s ok. With all the unpredictability, though, it is nice to at least be ready in other aspects where you can.

If you live in Italy, it’s even more unpredictable. If you’re not an Italian native, you get to add on another layer of unpredictability. If you’re pregnant and giving birth during a pandemic, go ahead and add another layer. Now you have this layered onion of unpredictability; the more you cut into it, the more you might want to cry.

I know, I know, Google doesn’t need another hospital bag checklist. If you’ve been pregnant since the invention of Google, blogs, and Pinterest, you know what I’m talking about. If you took everyone’s advice on what to pack you’d look like you’re moving into the hospital for good. I’m glad everyone nailed their hospital bag and are now suddenly experts on all things birth and babies. If it makes you feel any better, my hospital bag kinda stunk. As you’ll see below, there’s the official recommendation from the hospital, then in italics what I brought/what I would do differently next time. Half the reason my bag was not Mary Poppins’ bag was because of conflicting information from the hospital. Half the stuff they recommended I bring they ended up providing. Other items they discouraged I wished I might’ve had with me.

This is where this post comes in. I shall be happy if I can help one person be better prepared for their hospital stay in Italy. In Florence. At Ponte a Niccheri (Ospedale Santa Maria Annunziata). Before the rules change. Ok, well, at the very least you can empathize and/or laugh at my expense.

The links in this post are not affiliate links, no revenue is earned if you click on them, simply things I used and enjoyed. :)


Italian Hospital Bag Checklist: What Not to Pack

Hospital checklist.jpg

The actual hospital checklist

At my first visit to the hospital at 39+1 weeks, I was given a checklist. A bit late in the game to be receiving it, but better late than never. It was enlightening, as Italian hospitals operate differently than American hospitals and expect you to bring more.

What follows are the hospital’s suggestions on what to bring. (Translation and sometimes paraphrasing by yours truly, oh joy.) See photo for the original list.

Our structure is public, able to provide whatever is indispensable for the hospital stay, obviously ours are all disposable items.
If you’d like a recommendation on what to bring we can suggest:

  1. Breakfast is distributed in a carafe, so a mug and silverware are useful. (Breakfast is milk, tea, coffee, toast, cookies, butter, jam, and honey.) If you have other food habits, they’re not provided by the hospital.

    I had heard stories from other moms about having to bring their own dishes to the hospital, so was expecting this. Ironically I didn’t bring any because labor came on faster than I thought and we accidentally left several things at home.

    The infamous fette biscottate I roughly translated above as “toast” because they’re store-bought, very small pieces of dry bread. Think crouton texture. I had heard about women having just given birth, after many hours at the hospital, to be given as their first meal…fette biscottate. And a cup of tea. 60 calories of refined carbs will get you back your energy real quick after the hardest work of your life. Hahaha. However, I was not served the fette biscottate, but instead a little package of cookies, akin to graham crackers in taste. I even got TWO packages for breakfast. And because I didn’t have a mug, they gave me a tiny plastic cup of caffè latte or tea.

    Also, I would bring your own water and whatever beverages you desire. In my 76 hour stay at the hospital I was never once given nor offered water. When I was escorted to my room at 1am after the birth, I asked if I might have some water. All I had was a swig of an electrolyte drink my husband had gotten me during labor, but I hadn’t been much able to drink. That water never arrived so I spent the rest of the night rationing those few ounces. It was so hot, too. I asked again the next morning, and still didn’t get any (Throat…parched…so dry…have pity…pant pant). The coffee tasted wonderful (although I’m pretty sure it was some kind of powder mix) just because I was so thirsty. For lunch visiting hours when my husband was able to come back he brought me a pack of water and drinks. So consider bringing your own!

  2. Lunch and dinner come directly on trays, if you follow particular diets or have food allergies let the staff know so they can present to you a different menu.

    I don’t have any food allergies, but a nurse would come in twice a day and rattle off the menu. There was a surprising amount of choices I thought, and each meal consisted of several different items. It’s hospital food, though, not delicious. But hey, after birth and being generally ravenous after not wanting to eat for 24+ hours, I almost enjoyed it.

    Each meal usually consisted of a choice of protein, choice of bland boiled vegetable, possibly a soup, a dry piece of bread, a mealy apple and some possibly worm-infested plums, with a small cheese chunk and some grated cheese and a little packet of olive oil since these were the “hyper-caloric with supplement” meals for the moms.

  3. Clothing needs to be above all comfortable, for labor and birth a shirt or short nightgown, for the recovery garments that favor breastfeeding.

    The hospital video had recommended 2-3 nightgowns, button up and short sleeve so they can poke you with needles and stuff. I ended up bringing 3 nightgowns and a stretchy comfortable maternity dress for going home. I should’ve brought more, as the nightgown I wore during labor/birth I tossed. (It was old and stretched out, there’s a reason I chose that one.) Which basically left me with one gown per day in hospital. I’m sure that would’ve been fine normally but when your milk comes in and baby spits up…let’s just say I was wet and stained all the time. Bring options if you can!

    It was very hot in the rooms. Even though my clothes were very light I suffered a bit. I would wager it was about 85°F/30°C. Being mid September the weather could’ve gone either way, but leading up to then it was still quite hot. Never touched my fuzzy blanket. With the way Italians use air conditioning I figured it would be warm, I just didn’t expect it to feel like they had the heat cranked.

  4. Disposable underwear are the most practical, but what you use daily is also fine.

    This is where information I received started conflicting. At first I heard to bring the Depends type disposable adult underwear, not pads. I originally didn’t want to because when you break it down, it was about €1 per disposable pair. I had decided to get some pads since they were cheaper, then once things slowed down switch to my trusty ModiBodi period undies. I didn’t want to be chided at the hospital for not bringing what they recommended, so I ended up buying one pack of the Tena disposable undies when I found a good sale. Yes, they were very nice, secure, and comfy. Not too cumbersome either. I recommend them. But are they necessary? No. Postpartum pads and nighttime pads were fine, too.

    All that deliberating on my end of what to buy/bring, and the hospital provided pads. Sure, they were roughly the size of a small magic carpet and without any adhesive to keep them in place, but that would’ve saved me time, money, and room in my hospital bag if they had just said they provide them.

  5. Instead of a bidet towel a roll of toilet paper is more practical given the abundant blood loss after birth.

    Spoiler alert: despite having heard from others that hospitals don’t have toilet paper, this one did. That roll of toilet paper in my bag? Didn’t need it. (Maybe I should’ve TPed them? Lol)

    I wondered if the hospitals might have bidets, as that might render the classic postpartum peri bottle redundant. I had looked and looked, but could only find these much fancier “portable bidet” bottles on Amazon for €15ish. Why can’t I get a peri bottle for $3 like in the States? Feeling quite proud of myself, I got around the problem by buying a food condiment bottle for €2, basically the same thing as a peri bottle and cheaper! But. The hospitals did have bidets and the midwives were probably quite amused by this American carrying around her salad dressing bottle.

  6. A towel and washcloth for everyday hygiene.

    I packed soap, a washcloth, and towel, but no shampoo. I figured I would have my hair freshly washed before going to the hospital and could survive just fine washing my hair after at home. In real life, labor came on quickly and none of that “try and sleep, shower, do daily life until you can’t anymore” stuff happened. And when labor came on, my hair was dirty. No washing it now! Because of this, I had my husband bring me a bottle of shampoo. In the end I didn’t get to use that either, being alone in the hospital, who was going to watch my newborn while I showered? (No bathrooms in the shared rooms, you had to go down the hall, and there was only one shower.)

  7. Comfortable and washable socks/slippers.

    Yes to comfy socks. I brought an old cruddy pair to wear for labor and throw away after I was done. For the rest of the time I brought a pair of flip flops; that was a good choice since the maternity ward was so hot.

    When I first arrived at the hospital I was shown my room and locker for my stuff next to the bed. I changed into my nightgown and socks and the midwife who was waiting to escort us to my labor room immediately started chiding me that wearing socks in a hospital was “unsanitary.” Sorry, but I’m not wearing shoes while I’m laboring! And why do they list socks if they’re going to give me a hard time about it?

  8. For your baby if you want you can bring your garments (pajamas and clothes or onesies).

    If I want? Is my baby going to go home naked? Hahaha.

    The hospital video mentioned bringing 2-3 outfits and 2-3 onesies for baby. Similar to clothes for me as mentioned above, I would bring more for a 3 day stay, for similar reasons. There’s milk, spit up, and that wonderful meconium.

    You might also consider bringing a few size options, just in case your baby is born bigger or smaller than you expect. Coming from a family of big babies, I had no reason to expect my son to come out not even 7 lbs/3.1kg. Poor little guy, all his clothes were huge on him for the first month of his life.

  9. 1 pack of nighttime pads for mamma.

    See #4. Might make more sense to put these next to each other on the list? What do you think, would they let me rewrite their list for them?

  10. 1 pack of diapers for the baby.

    The video that was so hard to understand from the hospital we thought had said no diapers, but now we need to bring them? Ok.

    Then we show up to the hospital and they provided diapers. That now makes half of my hospital bag redundant.

Pacifiers are generally discouraged because they can interfere negatively with breastfeeding.

The day we left the hospital the pediatrician recommended we wait until baby is at least four weeks old before introducing a pacifier, so as to establish a good breastfeeding relationship first.

This was fine by us since we had more or less decided not to introduce pacifiers unless we felt a desperate need. That desperation beset us by two weeks in, but at that point baby boy clearly had NO confusion that the pacifier wasn’t his mama and wanted none of it.

For the first days after birth the use of nursing pads are also discouraged.

I’m actually not sure why they say this, I haven’t heard this anywhere else. If you know, please let me know in the comments or drop me a message, I’m curious to know!

For me, they would have been very useful in the hospital, I was so very leaky. Might’ve looked a little less “Singing in the Rain” and a little more Audrey Hepburn.

Ideas of what TO pack

Here are some more ideas I heard from people I trust. While I packed some of these myself, I didn’t touch a thing in my bag during labor or birth. I thought it out so carefully, what I thought I might like and be like during birth. Nope. It was labor and that was it. No trinkets. I would have so loved having my mom or doula there, experienced women who know childbirth and could have proactively helped me and anticipated my needs. My husband was lovely, but he was as new to the experience as I was. The midwife was in and out, and didn’t offer a whole lot.

  1. Hot water bottle

    I didn’t pack this, but this is one of the few things the midwife offered and it provided some relief from back labor, at least somewhat for an hour or two.

  2. Tennis balls tied in a sock

    For massaging. Sounded nice in theory, used to use those a lot after ballet class.

  3. Essential oils

    It’s better to bring some cotton balls or smell the oils straight from the bottles than apply topically. Some women have very strong smell aversions, and what you love one minute during labor you might not be able to stand shortly after. It’s much easier to close a bottle or toss a cotton ball than it is to wash an oil off your body. I had with me lavender, lime, and clary sage, simply because I thought those might be nice during labor.

  4. Music

    It’s funny that I didn’t think about it at the time, but my room was completely silent. Looking back I think music would’ve been nice, and in a way also helps you mark the passage of time. I had picked out what music I wanted to listen to on Spotify beforehand, but never thought about it in the moment.

  5. Homey items

    Anything that reminds you of home and might make your birth area more comfortable.

  6. Washcloths

    These can be multi-purpose, use with cold water during transition or pushing while you might be hot, sweaty, and possibly nauseated. Or wet with hot water to provide comfort to muscles and other body parts.

  7. A concentration token

    A meaningful object to focus on. I chose a necklace in the shape of my home state, Michigan…that stayed around my neck and I forgot was there until after baby was born. Hahaha.

  8. Flameless candles

    I didn’t bring these, but I thought they were a lovely idea for ambiance. A hospital isn’t going to let you burn down the building, but flameless or some kind of twinkle light would be neat!

All these are lovely, some I had in my bag. None I used. Their existence was completely forgotten during those long hours. Oh well, maybe next time!


Pregnancy: The Italian Edition - Part 3

Click here to read Part 1 or Part 2


Pregnancy: The Italian Edition - Part 3, the Third Trimester

The hot Florentine summer was now in full swing, as was my third trimester. Normally in the States checkups increase in frequency in the third trimester to every two weeks. Here they remained once a month, so I only had 3 appointments with midwife, plus the third trimester ultrasound. Once you reach about 40 weeks you start going to the hospital once a week for a checkup.

We had since moved from the outskirts of Florence to a small town outside of Florence called Figline e Incisa Valdarno. Technically we now lived in a different township, so we would need to change our official residency before we could change primary care doctor and possibly midwife. However, to change residency you need to fill out a form, provide documentation, then wait for the police to come to your home in the hours you wrote that you would be home every day. You don’t know what day they’ll show up once you submit your residency request. For my last residency I stayed home during the hours I said I would, every day like a good girl. When did the police show up? NOT during the window of time they were supposed to! And I had left. Thankfully my husband was home, he let them in, showed them an ID of mine, and that was good enough. I’m certainly not going to complain that they didn’t insist on coming back another day, but it does rather defeat the point of ensuring I truly do live there, as anyone could give an address and leave an ID! Because the process can be a bit lengthy, I decided to not go through all that and just keep my doctor and midwife, even if it meant over an hour in public transport in 90-100°F weather. Buses, trains, stores are all air conditioned in theory, but Italian air conditioning is not 68F American A/C. The nicest department stores usually have theirs set around 80°F. Public transport usually ends up being a wish and a thought, something like warm, stuffy air blowing on you. I would keep napkins in my purse to put on the (empty, thanks social distancing) train seat opposite me and prop up my feet to keep the swelling down. That way the train manager couldn’t say anything to me, as I’m not dirtying the seat!

Chapter 13: The 7th month checkup

The morning of my 7th month checkup when I went to the lab to do bloodwork, the area had been rearranged. There was a new waiting area setup outside the lab in the courtyard, complete with a new number screen. After my number was called the first time for “accettazione” I returned outside to wait for the second time my number would be called. I settled in for the long wait, and after almost an hour I started to realize that people who had arrived after me were already done. I decided to go inside to ask. They had continued calling numbers without ever returning to call my number the second time. If this number system had changed, they neither explained this to me nor gave me a new number. The lady at the fold-out “reception” table didn’t know why I hadn’t been called back. She stared at the screen for a bit, then told me to “go back and ask.” Ok, um, where exactly? I went back to the room indicated, and found several nurses sitting there and no one getting their blood drawn. I told them what happened and the one nurse immediately invited me to sit down. So they’re back here with no one, and I’m out front forgotten. This is a fantastic new system. Love it. Now up to see midwife.

At my sixth month checkup I had made sure to inform the lab and midwife of my new address, since the old would still come up when my tessera sanitaria/healthcare card was scanned. Midwife offered to put me in touch with the midwives at the Figline hospital, but for reasons already stated I declined. She said it pleased her to continue to follow me through the end of my pregnancy. This made me feel nice, as until now I had no idea what she thought of this strange pregnant American in Italy. Well, at least she’s enjoying herself! Last month’s checkup was the rushed one, and she neither mentioned my weight nor brought up the glucose test. The window for doing the test had passed and midwife didn’t sign and stamp it, therefore I couldn’t have done it if I had wanted to! Such a shame. After weighing me and seeing I had gained .5kg/1lb more than I was supposed to in the last month, she once again asked if I had been eating a lot? Like a ninja I circumnavigated the subject quickly; I was not getting into this again!

I was to remind midwife this appointment to change the date of my third trimester ultrasound, since she had scheduled it for an earlier date than is ideal, just to make sure I at least had one booked. July/August are when all the Italians go on vacation. She looked for a new date for me, but there were still none available. She said she would call me if she managed to get me another. If not, at least I had one.

Now being seven months pregnant and realizing that I was very little prepared for the task of birth ever looming, I was ready to grill my midwife with questions. Hospital tours were a no go, birth classes and mom support groups cancelled, and when it came to actual hospital procedures midwife was not forthcoming with information. It also didn’t help calm my nerves that the Covid rules were in constant flux. If a regulation changed, by the time midwife was informed it had probably already changed twice more. This was frustrating for both of us, but couldn’t be helped.
Following are some of the questions I asked midwife:

  • Will my husband be allowed in with me?

    At Ponte a Niccheri, yes. I would get tested for Covid, and as long as I’m negative, he doesn’t need to be tested and can be in the labor room with me. This wasn’t the case at Careggi, where husbands also had to be tested. I had seen other women’s stories where the husbands’ results didn’t come back in time and they missed the birth. This is another reason Ponte a Niccheri was more appealing!

  • Is a water birth possible?

    Yes, but that’s something I’d have to ask for at the hospital.

  • How many days will I be in the hospital?

    Given there are no complications, about 3 days for a natural, 4 for a caesarean.

  • Is skin to skin contact a common occurrence?
    Yes, skin to skin contact is encouraged, as Ponte a Niccheri is a very family oriented, physiologically-minded hospital.

  • What happens if I go into labor early?

    I go to the emergency room. No need to call midwife.

Midwife also mentioned I could go to the hospital’s website and find some videos for birth preparation. I was expecting maybe some birth classes and other helpful things. Alas. There were maybe 4-5 low-quality clips of varying degrees of unhelpfulness. No birth classes. One had strange music with some weird artwork and a midwife talking about the role of hormones in pregnancy and what a special time it is in your life. Um. That’s lovely and all, but how is this helping me learn how to most effectively get a baby out?? The only slightly helpful one had a midwife talking about what to bring to the hospital. A written list would’ve been more helpful, so I didn’t have to keep rewinding (is that called scrubbing nowadays?) and writing down what to bring. The sound quality was also such that I had to ask my husband at one point what she was saying, as I still couldn’t understand after listening to it 4 times. After playing it 3 times more for him, we finally decided she was saying we don’t need to bring diapers. Needless to say, the hospital was also leaving me to be very…independent in my birth prep, to put a positive spin on it?

Favorite take-aways from this appointment:

  • Per usual, one of the first questions midwife asks is if I have any new bloodwork results for her. This time I had to say no, because the results from last month never showed up in the mail, they must’ve gotten my new address wrong. She sent me down to the front desk to get the results, which only took a couple minutes (I guess she can’t or didn’t want to access the results from her computer) and I gave them to her. She asked if I wanted a copy or to wait for my results to come in the mail? Uh, it’s been a month, I don’t think they’re coming? I then looked at my address on the paper and showed her that indeed the city was wrong. They’re not going to be showing up to my place anytime soon!

  • When midwife measures my uterus, she always has me go to the bathroom first. I find it ironic that she weighs me, chides me on my weight, then asks me to go to the bathroom so she can get an accurate measurement of my uterus. Ha.

  • Parting comments from midwife: “Don’t eat too much fruit or sugar.” “You have a very nice look about you.” So which one is it? Careful what you eat because you’ve gained too much weight, or I look good? Haha!

Chapter 14: Certificato telematico

I was supposed to get the “certificato telematico” from my midwife, a form you need in order to apply for the standard 5-month paid maternity leave in Italy. As it turns out, she wasn’t able to get it for me, it had to be my primary care doctor or a gynecologist. Getting it from my doctor would be problematic, because he’s very hard to get ahold of, especially since Covid. So midwife said she’d try and get ahold of one of her colleague gynecologists, get them to fill out this form for me, and email it to me. If this didn’t work, I’d have to come to an appointment with a gynecologist to do the form. She made me an appointment in case she couldn’t get it, but the earliest appointment was the next week, which would be after my maternity appointment at CISL. Ergh. It was also the same day and time as my currently scheduled ultrasound that she had tried unsuccessfully to change. She suggested I try and get ahold of my doctor and in the meantime she would see what she could do. The problem with my primary care doctor is that he only takes patients by appointment since Covid. To make an appointment you must call, but he only answers one of his numbers, sometimes, if you sprinkle a little pixie dust, and you’d only know this number by showing up to one of his offices to find it’s closed and need to call this particular number. After numerous tries, the doctor did answer and I got an appointment. AMAZING.

My appointment was at the same time that the doctor’s office opened in the afternoon, and I got there early. How American of me. I rang the bell but no one answered. I realized the lady across the street parking her Vespa and having a chat was the receptionist, as she yelled across that they weren’t open yet. About 5 minutes after opening time, she unlocked the door and went in, letting me come with her. She told me I could wait in the waiting room, and 45 minutes after my appointment time the doctor decided to grace us with his presence. Once he got settled in his office he called me back and we got to work getting the certificato telematico. In the end it was the receptionist who did everything, she only needed the doctor for a password sent to his cell number. He and I just sat by and watched, making awkward small talk about Italy and America, poverty, and how young I am. 27 isn’t that young I didn’t think. “No, you’re veryyyyy young.” Ok. An hour and multiple attempts later, because the INPS site that the certificate is downloaded from was having problems (shocking), I had the certificate in hand. I almost didn’t get it, and since my maternity appointment was the next day, it was very important that I get it. It was close to a miracle that I walked out with the certificate in hand!

I called midwife to let her know I obtained the certificate and she could cancel the other appointment with the gynecologist. In other good news, she was able to switch my third trimester ultrasound to a later date.

Chapter 15: Maternity leave appointment

Armed with the certificato telematico and all the other required documents, I headed off to the INPS/CISL office on the far side of Florence. I waited my turn outside on one of the few plastic chairs before being called in. The signora set everything up for me and soon I would have the standard 5 months maternity. What she failed to explain was that I would have to come back after baby is born to continue the maternity. I thought the 5 months maternity started at 7 months pregnant, then continued until baby was 3 months old. Nope. You get 2 months (roughly, depending on when you give birth), then you go back after baby is born to get the last 3 months. I discovered this when the payments stopped. A couple phone calls and appointments later it was remedied, the usual run around. I’m thankful to be getting any maternity at all though, I know not everyone does!

Chapter 16: Baby bonuses and an expired permesso

There were a couple other bonuses and such for new parents and babies, there was even a special one for babies born in 2020, the pandemic babies, haha! I was unable to apply at the same time as my maternity appointment however, because I didn’t have a currently valid permesso. (Permesso di soggiorno, or permission to stay, is what allows me to stay and live in Italy.) My permesso had expired back in March, and I had applied to renew it by the end of February.

Because applying for and renewing permessos can take so long (up to a year or beyond, for a document that is valid generally from 1-5 years), when you submit your application/renewal request at the post office you are given a receipt, which is valid as your permesso until your appointment at the questura (police station). Your appointment is usually 2-4 months after submission at the post office. Once you go to your appointment, it will take another 3-6 months or longer to receive the notification that your permesso is ready for pickup. Keep in mind the average weight time at the actual questura is about 4-5 hours. You may be given an appointment time, but really you have to get there as early as possible, 5-6am ideally, and wait in a line that wraps around the building. They don’t actually open until 8am.

Upon submitting my renewal request in February, a few days later I received a text message and eventually a letter in the mail confirming my appointment at the questura for October. I was instructed to bring that letter with me to the appointment. 8 months later? Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, things are extra slow with Covid. A few days after that I received another text message informing me that my appointment was changed from October 2020 to end of January 2021. Huh. As I write this, I still haven’t been to my appointment. That permesso receipt is getting very faded and wrinkled in my purse. I get to go wait at the questura with a 4 month old baby in January during Covid, yay! Prayers and snacks appreciated.

How does this tie into the pregnancy novel? Because the permesso receipt wasn’t acceptable to apply for these other baby bonuses. I would have to come back when I have my new permesso. Which would be in more than 6 months. The signora suggested I go to the questura and hassle them to try and get my new permesso sooner.

On our way back home we stopped by the questura to see what could be done. The police officer at the door said he wasn’t the one to ask, come back tomorrow morning. The next morning we came back to ask. This police officer informed us that, due to Covid, all permessos that expired after January 31, 2020 were automatically extended until 31 July. Originally I believe it was until June 15, but a few days before they had extended the extension. This means that, at the moment of my appointment for the maternity and baby bonuses, my permesso was technically still valid. But we didn’t know that in the moment as the law had just been passed the day prior, and news had apparently not reached the signora helping me. Oof.

Chapter 17: Renewing, once again, the tessera sanitaria

As you probably don’t remember back from part 1, my tessera sanitaria had expired the same date as my permesso, in March. When I renewed it I was only given another 5 months. That time was drawing to an end so off I was to try and renew it yet again, so I wouldn’t have problems in the next couple months with giving birth and all.

I arrived at the same ASL office where I had renewed it last time. I waited, and when someone finally walked by I asked if I could renew my tessera. She said I had to make an appointment and told me what number to call. On my way out I happened to run into an acquaintance of mine who works in that office. He informed me that because the permessos’ validity were being extended, therefore also my tessera validity should be extended. So instead of expiring July 31, it should be valid until August 31. Not super helpful as that just had me renewing my tessera again in a month, just weeks before my due date. He said he would check to make sure mine was extended, and kindly took my information. For some unknown reason my card had not been extended and did indeed expire in July. But he was able to renew it for me, with a simple email sending me a temporary tessera with the real thing to follow in the mail. So easy, and now valid until January! So I can forget about that until at least after baby is born, phew!

Chapter 18: 3rd trimester ultrasound

Off again to the Palagi hospital for my final ultrasound. Once we arrived huffing and puffing at the top of the hill, I headed towards the main entrance as that’s where I was redirected to last time. Now there were big paper signs redirecting us to the side entrance. We climbed the steps and I entered alone, sad that my husband didn’t get to experience a single ultrasound with me.

60994998618__79E5E401-D13D-41BF-A5C5-67EBEA63129D.jpg

I wasn’t entirely sure where to go, since it was different every single I had been there, so I went to the accettazione/CUP area to see if I could check in and ask. I took a number and when I was called the lady barely glanced at my appointment paper and told me to head up to the third floor. This was the same area I had been last time, so felt semi-confident in what I was doing. I reached the waiting area and sat down. I was the only one there for the longest time. Then a doctor appeared and called my name. He promptly disappeared beyond the door and by the time I reached it (8 months pregnant and not exactly moving at the speed of lightning) he was nowhere in sight. I thought I saw him head towards the right, so I headed to the right and looked both ways down the hallway. No one. Ok, well I was called from the left last time so that makes more sense. I turn around and headed to the left. I look down that hallway both ways. Not a soul. Well, this is just embarrassing. I head back to the right again. Still no sign of the living. Where did he go?! Just as I’m wondering, “now what do I do??” I hear him yelling “MORRIS?” from somewhere down the hallway on the right. So I yelled back “where are you?!?” with a hint of despair in my voice, like the sophisticated person that I am. He shouted back some stellar directions, something like “back here” and I somehow managed to find him further down the hall, around the corner, in his room. There you are, Peter!

The first few minutes of the appointment the doctor was on his phone, talking about how tired he was, he was on his last patient of the day, almost done, etc., while I got out my tessera sanitaria and appointment slip for him. When he had hung up and and seemed in a good place with the computer stuff, I ventured to ask if it would be possible for him to write down on a slip of paper baby’s gender, without me seeing. My husband and I wanted it to be a surprise, but with Covid it was looking all but certain that my mom wouldn’t be allowed to come to Italy for the birth. We had decided to ask the doctor for the slip of paper, and I would show my mom the paper over FaceTime without me seeing it. That way she would know and could have fun preparing a little box to ship to us, blue or pink items, that we would open after baby was born. The doctor interrupted me before I had finished, “no.” It was so blunt, I figured he must be joking, right? So I sheepishly finished, to which he didn’t respond.

I laid down and he commenced the ultrasound. He didn’t say much and the whole ultrasound lasted maybe 5 minutes? I knew the second ultrasound was the longest and most thorough, but still, it seemed too brief. I had a couple questions I wanted to ask him, but hesitated because of his abrupt response earlier. I finally got them out and he responded genially enough. I asked baby’s position, is he/she head down, and he was. He actually went back and found baby’s back to show me, and took some screenshots while he did so (he hadn’t even looked at baby’s back and wouldn’t have if I hadn’t said something, he was about to finish!). Then I was done, he handed me the photos and never mentioned the note with baby’s gender. I guess he really hadn’t been joking, and I didn’t want to push him, so I left. It was weird.

Chapter 19: 8th month checkup

I went into the eighth month checkup feeling quite lighthearted, thinking this was my last appointment with midwife (it wasn’t). I could gain all the weight I wanted in this last month and she’ll never know, ha! Next step, hospital and birth! At the same time, I felt a bit in limbo since my midwife would not be present at the birth, and I wouldn’t know any of the midwives at the hospital while I’m giving birth, so I felt…like an orphan?

You see, in Italy the midwife or gynecologist who follows you only does so for the clinical visits. Once it’s time to give birth, whichever midwives or doctors are on duty at the hospital you’ve chosen are the ones who will be assisting your birth, people you’ve never met before. If you want the same medical professional to be at the birth, you’d have to go into the private sector.

I finished my last round of blood work, which went smoothly for maybe the first time ever? It went quickly, only 30 minutes, I wasn’t forgotten, and when I was called back I went to a different room than normal, which was bigger and had a comfy chair. I was the only one in that room and the nicest young nurse took my blood, she spoke English and it really made my morning! I also picked up my lab results from last month, since they still didn’t arrive at my new address.

All the usual checkup things happened, weight, blood pressure, uterus measurement, listening to baby’s heartbeat. Except, we were in a different room than usual this day which caused some discrepancies in some measurements. At first my uterus wasn’t measuring the right size, then midwife realized it was a different exam table and I was lying at a different angle. Since we were also using a different scale than normal, she didn’t believe that I had only gained 2kg/4.5lbs this month, and actually waited for the doctor using our usual room to finish with her patient, then escorted me into that room just to weigh me. And she was correct, that scale read a bit more. So she felt vindicated that I couldn’t possibly have gained the correct amount, but she didn’t go beyond “aha, I thought so”. It seems every other appointment she decided to make a big deal out of it, but thankfully this wasn’t one of those.

This appointment also included the crowd favorite from the libretto di gravidanza, the vaginal rectal swab (to see if you’re positive for Group B streptococcus). I didn’t know what to expect for this; it’s basically like a Pap smear but with no speculum, just a long Q-tip, therefore less uncomfortable. Dear midwife cautioned me right before doing the swab that I might feel some discomfort. I laughed and said something to the effect of “if a little Q-tip causes me discomfort what am I going to do about the baby that has to come out in a few weeks??” She laughed. She didn’t laugh often. I think that was a very American moment for me.

I made sure to tell midwife this appointment about some preeclampsia symptoms I had been exhibiting. Each one could easily be explained away with the hot weather, but when just a few days before this appointment I had a severe headache that ended in vomiting, I wanted reassurance. When midwife took my blood pressure it was a bit higher than usual but nothing alarming. She recommended I check it once a week. Pharmacies in Florence center were not allowing people to have their blood pressure measured due to Covid regulations, but midwife suggested I try where I lived as their rules might be different.

To my surprise, midwife scheduled one last appointment with her, granted I didn’t go into labor beforehand. She also scheduled my first appointment with the hospital, about a week before my due date. The hospital later called me to tell me where and when to come for the Covid test.

Chapter 20: Where to check blood pressure during a world pandemic?

A week later I was supposed to get my blood pressure checked. I tried asking at the pharmacy in Figline. They also weren’t allowed to check anyone’s blood pressure during Covid. They suggested I try across the street, where there happened to be a Red Cross. I went across and rang the bell, and a man came down and kindly agreed to measure my bp. This involved going out and opening the garage door and getting into the ambulance. To my dismay my blood pressure was higher than it had been yet (135/91).

The next day I decided to go pick up my lab results from last week, and to see if they would measure my bp. After the higher reading yesterday I wanted to check it again, but didn’t necessarily want to have to measure it in an ambulance every day. My results were ready and I was relieved to see no protein in my urine. After asking at the front desk who sent me back to the lab who sent me back to one of the rooms who sent me to another room, a nurse cheerily took my bp which was back down to 128/80. Still not my normal but at least lower.

After that my husband suggested I get my own bp cuff so I can measure it at home every day. Midwife had said to check it weekly, but never actually said to let her know, or even to let her know if it was above a certain number. I sent her an email with all my numbers anyway. Haha.

Chapter 21: The 9th month checkup

Now I finally could rejoice in my last midwife appointment! All the normal proceedings happened and midwife seemed almost, dare I say it, affectionate? She even went as far as to say, “ah, if only everyone were like Jenny” after asking me to do something that I had already done. I’m no exceptional being, but apparently one of the few organized people in this country? Haha!

Favorite take-aways from this appointment:

  • Midwife recommending some breathing/birth films to look into to help me in labor…uh, better late than never? I’m over 38 weeks pregnant here…

  • Midwife explaining to me what contractions are . “It’s not constant pain, like a headache, it come and goes. Like a wave.” Again, if I didn’t already know this at almost 9 months pregnant, what am I doing here? I may have spent most of my pregnancy in lockdown but I wasn’t in a cave!

  • As I’m leaving and we’ve already said our goodbyes, midwife follows me out of the room and leans over the railing as I walk down the stairs. “Best wishes, you’ll do well, let me know how it goes! I can hear by the sound of your footfalls that you carry yourself well.” Such high praise! I just might miss this lady.

Chapter 22: Covid test and 1st hospital checkup

At 39+1 weeks pregnant I had my first appointment at the hospital. I had no idea what to expect, other than the Covid test and maybe a cardiotocography, the last exam in my “libretto di gravidanza.”

When the hospital contacted me they told me to come at 7:30am for the Covid test, no other option. That meant a 4am alarm, a walk, a train, and two buses to get to the hospital that early. The bright spot was before getting the second bus we would stop and get a fresh pastry and cappuccino. No one mentioned fasting for this test so I took full advantage! We got to the hospital about half an hour early, and went to the old ER as I had been instructed. We passed the abandoned triage tent, up the steps and found the door to the ER locked, but the lights were on. Not a soul was around so we went back down the steps to see if there might be another entrance. After passing some areas that didn’t look fit for human habitation, we approached some other doors. Two guards at the door started taking our temperature before we could ask where to go for the Covid test. They told us to go to the old ER. And if we were just there and no one is around? “Oh, well you have to knock.” Naturally. We returned to the old ER and tried knocking. A couple other pregnant women had started to show up at this point as it was almost 7:30. Finally a nurse fully garbed in PPE showed up and told us to hang on, he can’t let us in until at least 7:30. Mind you, just beyond the doors is the empty waiting room and out here it’s a crumbly cement landing and stairs, no seating. My husband asked if the 9 months-pregnant women might be able to wait in the waiting room (might be nice)? The nurse looked behind him at the room and decided there was no harm in it.

A bit past 7:30 and the PPE nurse came back to give his Covid spiel, as for most of us this was our first time. Someone had told me they would probably do the Covid blood test instead of the dreaded swab, and I wish this had been true. It wasn’t, hence the spiel. So remember, if you’re getting Covid swabbed:

  • You will be swabbed down the throat first, then in each nostril.

  • Be careful not to accidentally touch the sample after you’ve been swabbed, or it will be considered contaminated and you’ll have to redo the whole thing. Even if it just grazes the outside of your nose.

  • Don’t touch or sneeze on the nurse or he has to go change all his PPE.

  • Don’t make any sudden movements, especially during the nose swab, as you could cause yourself serious injury.

  • It’s a normal, physiological response in pregnant women to gag/vomit after the throat swab. Likewise, watery eyes and crying after the nose swab is also normal.

  • If you do have to vomit, please vomit in the designated bucket next to you. Vomiting on the floor will shut down the whole Covid testing operation while they have to clean and sterilize the area. Please, please, we beg of you, vomit in the bucket.

  • The samples will be sent to Careggi hospital, once there it will take about 12 hours to get the results. You’ll only be notified if you’re positive.

  • Your negative test result is valid for one week. This is more than the standard 48 hours since it is assumed pregnant women are already cautious and at home more, therefore less likely to contract Covid-19. You will be tested once a week until you give birth. (No time like the present to eat spicy food and go for some nice long walks!!)

  • The record number of tests for a pregnant woman (at that hospital) is 5 times. Try not to beat her record.

Since I was the first one to arrive, I was also the first to be called back. I generously tried to offer the lady after me my spot, but she didn’t go for it. Back I walked (waddled?), checked that my name and birthdate were correct, and sat in the chair. I confirmed the trash bag-lined box next to me was the vomit bucket, pulled down my mask, and I was ready. I overzealously thrust up my chin, which I was asked to lower some, opened my mouth and back went the long, long Q-tip. The nurse asked me to say “ahhhh” three times, and just when I thought I might actually lose it, that part was done. With the removal of the swab I did have a healthy gag, but my breakfast stayed put. Then up the nose went the swab, where the nurse seemed to enjoy sweeping out the cobwebs. With involuntary tears now trickling down my face, I thanked him and leapt out of there, probably leaving the remaining dozen women filled with even more trepidation, seeing me coming out “crying.” About as unpleasant as I was expecting, and secretly hoping baby might arrive before next week.

Now not even 8am, I headed around and up to the main hospital area. Midwife had asked me what time I wanted for the hospital appointment, I had the choice of between 7:30am-10:30am. I opted for 10:30, not knowing at the time that the Covid tests were only at 7:30. So would I now have to wait over 2 hours? I checked in and waited in the hallway seats, where many other people were waiting for various reasons, as many different doctors’ rooms were just off this hall. The first three doors were for the midwives, and I settled myself in for a long wait. I had barely started writing some cards when a midwife came out and called each of the pregnant women waiting and told us to remember a number she gave us. I was number 5, so figured I would be the fifth called back. She asked us to be patient, since there were many of us and only two midwives working. Not even half an hour later and the other midwife called me back. She escorted me to a different wing of the hospital and unlocked an unused room. I felt kinda special and also a bit relieved to get away from the hubbub in that other area. She hooked me up for the cardiotocography, and I got to listen to baby’s heartbeat for almost an hour. I pressed a button every time I felt a kick. The midwife in the meantime entered all my information into the computer. When she was done she sent me back to where I was waiting originally, to be called a second time. The same midwife called me 5 minutes later, and this time she used an ultrasound to measure the amniotic fluid. I still had plenty, then she realized I wasn’t even 40 weeks yet, why ever did I come in so early? I explained that midwife made me this appointment. She understood, I was just doing what I was told to do. Oh well, no big deal. She made sure I was feeling alright, no major contractions, bleeding, my water hadn’t broken, or any other complications or signs of labor. Should any of those happen I was to call or come in to the hospital. I refused the pelvic exam as I really didn’t see the point and it’s not completely risk free. If nothing happened I was to return to the hospital a week from today, she made me a slip with the appointment which I took to the CUP area to make an official appointment. Then I was done, about the same time my appointment should’ve started at 10:30! Now, can this pregnant lady get a nap or what?

Chapter 23: 2nd Covid test and hospital checkup

Now at 40+1 weeks pregnant and no new developments, I was off to the hospital again. Here we were once more up at 4am to be there by 7:30. We walked past the empty triage tent and up the stairs to the old ER. The doors were still locked. We knocked, no one answered. After a few more women had arrived we heard someone shout up at us, “Covid testing is no longer in there! Wait by the triage tent while we get suited up.” It was the nurse, just arriving. So we all waited on the overgrown lawn (garden?) while the nurses prepared everything. They went through the swab spiel, and I was first up…again. Early bird gets the first Covid swab! This time there was just a chair setup outside the tent on the grass. I confirmed the location of the vomit bucket, and was ready. Maybe because I opened my mouth wider and said “ahhh” more confidently this time, it wasn’t as long or as awful. I didn’t gag and my eyes only watered, no actual tears escaped. The nurse even complimented how well I did. Why thank you, this isn’t my first rodeo. He said “see you next time” to which I genially replied, “I hope not!” Spoiler alert, I got my wish, as two days after I would go into labor.

Then it was up to the hospital for my second checkup. My appointment was earlier this time, 8:30am, but it didn’t really matter as I was called back almost right away. I sometimes think they put the time on appointment slips just to look pretty. I was in a shared room today for the cardiotocography, then was called to another room for the amniotic fluid assessment. Everything was in order, and I had the pelvic exam done today since I was now technically overdue and curious. No dilation but the cervix was softening and baby was at -2. I was sent home with the same instructions from last week and an appointment for the next week, an appointment I would never make it to…dun dun!


Are you still reading? I’m impressed. Now go make cookies or something! :)

Coming soon, sometime, eventually…the birth story!

Pregnancy: The Italian Edition - Part 2

Continued from Part 1


Pregnancy: The Italian Edition - Part 2, the Second Trimester

Chapter 9: 4th month checkup

After more than half a dozen appointments and tests in less than two weeks, things finally settled down into a less hectic groove with just once a month midwife appointments and blood work. If I remember correctly, blood work for a whole skew of things is done once in the first trimester including for toxoplasmosis plus a urine test, then the toxotest is done about once a month through the second and third trimesters. I told you they’re serious over here about toxoplasmosis! On the other hand, in the States you’re likely to have your urine checked at each visit, where here in Italy there is a urine test only once per trimester.

Now in the midst of the lockdown in Italy, only I could enter the building for my appointments, with a mask now required everywhere. They would ask what I’m there for, check my temperature, and send me on my way with a pump of hand sanitizer. Midwife now not only had on a mask, but also plastic glasses, shower cap, and full medical cape. She told me once again not to fret over the coronavirus and said that all the medical staff in the building had been tested for Covid-19 in recent days and were all negative.

So the 4 month checkup passed uneventfully, midwife each time gathering a bit more history, checking blood pressure and weight. This was the first appointment we listened to baby’s heartbeat! The third month appointment she elected not to since I had just had my ultrasound days before, didn’t want to “disturb baby more.” Boo. I wanted to hear the heartbeat! She wanted to know how much I weighed when I was born (didn’t know in kilo!), if I was breastfed and for how long, what kind of birth my mom had with me, and all the same stuff for my husband. He was born in rural Tunisia in the 80’s at home, so uh, no, he has no idea about any of that nor would there be any records!

We discussed birth options. I think it would be neat to have a home birth, but my apartment wasn’t very comfortable and didn’t have space to blow up a birthing tub, plus I’d have to pay a midwife in private to come to my home for the birth, which would be about €3.000-€3.500 my midwife told me. Come June she said to remind her and she would book some hospital tours for me at Ponte a Niccheri and Careggi’s Margherita Center, depending on the Covid situation. She told me right away that the hospital for me would be Ponte a Niccheri, they’re very naturally inclined (as I desired) and she said the birth ward is midwife run and they would “coddle me.”

Chapter 10: Second trimester ultrasound

Off to the Palagi hospital once again for my 20 week ultrasound. Having been here twice before for the anatomy screening stuff, we knew where to go. Or so we thought. A phrase including “I know” in Italy will almost always have you eating your words. We started walking up the hill towards the “women’s center.” Halfway up some man yells at us, “hey, you’re not supposed to be up here, didn’t you see the barricade? You have to pass through the main entrance.” Oh sorry, actually no, we walked right past because the barricade was open and not closed…

We go back to the main entrance where only I am allowed in. They take my temperature, pump of hand gel, and indicate where I can walk along the taped designated walkway. I then take the inside route to the women’s center, up six flights of stairs, down the narrow hall, long hall, anddddd nobody around? Hello? Where do I go? I finally see another pregnant lady and we find mutual comfort in both being lost. At that moment a doctor comes out of a room and we ask for help. She asks if we’ve already checked-in? The other lady had, so she was told to go one place, while I was told I needed to go to check-in first. Which is where? She indicates that I need to go back down the long hall, narrow hall, down to the third floor. Ahhhh ok. I still had time before my appointment (always give yourself extra time, peoples) so I wasn’t worried. I make it to the third floor and find another strange wing of the hospital that I tentatively start to traverse. X rays? No. Oncology? No. No no no. Ultrasounds, yes! I turn down that hall. Ok now where is the reception? I see a little office on the corner, but there is a sign saying “accettazione” is —->. I walk down the whole hall, no reception. I try to stop a passing nurse but she just brushes me off. So I turn back to the little office to inquire and realize that this really is the reception. That arrow on the wall indicating down the hall? It really just meant you needed to turn the corner to talk to the reception from that side, not the other side. A+ for clarity, guys! There are two nurses studying something on a computer. They ignore me. Finally I ask if this is where I can check in? They tell me to wait for someone else to come help me. A doctor walks past me, she asks if she can help me? I tell her I just need to check in…? Ah, someone else will help me with that. While I continue to wait by the reception, the doctor instructs some other women where they are supposed to wait. Maximum 3 in the waiting room, one out in the chairs in the hall, the rest down another hall. Another nurse shows up and I tell her I need to check-in. “What? Oh you don’t need to do that! Just go sit in the waiting room.” Oh. Ok. I poke my head in the waiting room, but there are already the max of 3 women in there. So I just stand in the hall, as it seemed the easiest spot to stay socially distanced. A nurse passes by and says I can’t stay there, I have to wait in the waiting room. Right then. The only seat at least 1m/3ft from another woman is one of the “don’t sit here, please respect social distancing measures” but I sit there anyway.

My appointment time comes and goes, every single woman is called back except for me, including women who had appointments at least half an hour after mine. Finally after more than an hour of waiting I asked a doctor (who had come to call back a woman who wasn’t there) if I would be called soon? She asked my name and brusquely told me I’m not on her list. But she seemed to pause in her tracks…”you’ve been here an hour waiting for an ultrasound? Well your doctor has already moved on to later appointments!” She leaves. Cool. I wait to ask at reception what the deal is. While I’m waiting another woman comes in and asks me if she needs to check-in? I apologetically tell her that I’m really not the one to be asking, I was told yes, no, and am a currently forgotten patient. At that moment another doctor appears, looking for a patient. The woman who had just asked me about check-in is the patient the doctor is looking for. The doctor starts loudly scolding her saying she couldn’t find her and she needs to stay in one place, etc. The lady responds that she was waiting where she had been told to for over half an hour and just came to check if she needed to do anything! They yell at each other back and forth a bit, then go on to the appointment. Mmm lovely energy in that room. Love the beside manners here.

I ask at reception about my appointment. After the usual struggle of “what?!” When I give my name, which apparently comes from outer space, she says I’m on the list and they will call me. She suggests maybe it’s better to wait in the now empty hall seats just in case, so I’m more visible. After a total of 2 hours waiting, I finally get called back!

This doctor was much kinder than my first experience. Ultrasound went well, baby is healthy, got some good mid-kick images, even if those cute, whole baby side-profile images don’t seem to be a thing here? Ah well, got some great feet pictures and spine pictures and other things I have no idea what they are. Nothing like having a completely opposite experience from the first ultrasound, even down to the paper towels. This doctor only gave me maybe two pieces that wasn’t enough for the copious amount of gel she used. As things were going well, I didn’t want to risk her wrath by asking for more paper towel. But I’ll take a kind doctor with my shirt adhering to a sticky belly over an irritable doctor any day!

Chapter 11: 5th month checkup

Once again more Covid security measures were in place. My chair was now placed so far from the midwife’s desk that it was resting against the exam table, and there was a plexiglass screen on her desk between us.

The 5th month check-up was not as enjoyable, for the main reason that I was chided on my weight and thereafter thoroughly quizzed on my diet to find the weak link. I had arrived early that morning to do the routine toxotest blood work (done in 15 minutes!! So fast! On the down side, I now had to wait over an hour for my appointment but…hey pastry and cappuccino!), and ate breakfast just before my appointment since the blood work is supposed to be done while fasting.

Per usual at the beginning of the checkup midwife asked me to step on the scale, always with shoes and jacket on. As she adjusted the scale she asked if I had eaten a lot. “Why yes, actually I just ate breakfast before coming in.” “No, no, I mean in general.” Oh…I head to sit down but she stops me and asks me to turn a circle so she can “look at me.” “No, the tummy is about right,” she says to herself. Now feeling like an elephant on display I tell her I don’t think I have been eating a lot. I would say I’m normally a healthy eater, and have been even more attentive recently. She wanted to know what I’ve been eating, because I had gained too much weight in the 5 weeks since I last saw her (3 kg/6.5lbs instead of 2kg/4.5lbs). I eat a little bit of everything but mostly vegetable based meals and fruits…”Ah, fruit you say? Too much fruit can make you gain weight…” I certainly haven’t been eating THAT much fruit…”Do you eat bread?” Yes, but not excessively…”How about pasta and rice?” A couple times a week I eat pasta (hello, Italy) but not rice often…not to be discouraged by my lack of confession, she kept trying…”ah, you like your sweets, don’t you?” This is true, but again, I have been mindful of what I’m feeding baby.

Midwife still doesn’t seem to be giving in, so she takes my chart and pushes it towards me, to show me my weight gain. She shows me where I had gained a bit extra after the first trimester but didn’t say anything because, as she figured, I had been sick in the first trimester and needed to gain a little extra. At this point I’m starting to get a little irritated and was thankful that my mask covered most of my face; the only hint she would have that I’m not happy are my eyebrows getting incrementally higher with each question. Finally I try and tell her that I feel GOOD, I don’t feel like I’ve been excessively gaining weight nor eating poorly, so when I gained more than is recommended in ONE week without eating differently, I wasn’t overly worried. This in and of itself should be a good sign, coming from a former ballerina who has spent most her life being very weight-conscious and staring at her reflection in the studio mirror. I know my body and I know what my diet has been. She seemed pleasantly surprised to hear I had a scale at home and had been keeping track, and confirmed that I too, had seen the weight gain? YES, can we please stop talking about this now?! I kept my tone civil, but inside my thoughts were more akin to: “I feel awful” - “don’t cry” - “if she keeps on like this, maybe I should just get up and walk out?” - “just smile and nod” - “should I come up with some ridiculous story, like I’ve been eating McDonald’s every day, sometimes I even order a salad with my big mac, fries, and shake? I don’t always get the shake, but if I do, sometimes I’ll skip my daily gelato!” :D

We finally agreed that maybe it wasn’t my diet, but the exercise. Ya know, I’ve been stuck at home during a world pandemic for two months and not supposed to leave my residence, not even to go for a walk? Since the exercise restriction had been lifted the week before, we concluded I will go for not one walk a day, but two. I didn’t bother bringing up the fact that they never weighed me in the beginning, just asked me what my pre-pregnancy weight was. I knew what it was, and so I told them. I never thought to clarify that that’s my morning weight, no shoes, no coat, and before breakfast because that’s the most consistent way to weigh yourself?

Real life: Eating a gelato

Real life: Eating a gelato

Midwife was about to let it go and move on to other subjects when she lets out an “aha! You like your potatoes, don’t you?” Inwardly sighing, no, nope. “No, I don’t care for potatoes that much.” She just would NOT let it go. She never thought that, all things considered, gaining 1 or 2lbs outside the “clinical” range, during a world pandemic is maybe not a big deal? That maybe not every single woman should gain 25lb-35lbs because every body is different? That people gain weight differently, vary in height, babies’ weights vary, and a woman’s water weight during pregnancy can vary? I’m no doctor and not here to suggest throwing out the clinical weight guidance, but a woman who is 5’1” and gains 35lbs probably wouldn’t be given a hard time, and yet a woman who is 5’11” and gains 40lbs might be shamed because she gained 5lbs too much? Maybe you can tell that this bothers me, but I didn’t appreciate being quizzed and feeling like midwife didn’t believe me. And despite reassurances from both my husband and mom that I shouldn’t worry, I couldn’t help but have this little midwife on my shoulder every time I went to eat something for the next few days. Shouldn’t eat that. Maybe I should skip the olive oil on my salad? Aw man, I want a cookie, what would midwife say? Then I would constantly have to talk myself out of it and not feel guilt anytime anything entered my mouth. I’m not implying that I don’t think a medical professional should be able to discuss weight concerns with a patient, but there is a way to go about that, and it certainly doesn’t involve quizzing, guilt-tripping, or not believing the patient.

At the end of the appointment midwife said I would have to do the glucose test for gestational diabetes if I gained 3kg again by the next visit, instead of 2kg. Despite the fact that I have 0 risk factors for gestational diabetes aside from this 1 week weight gain. But I think all women in America get this done regardless, so there’s that. I’ve heard it’s not a fun test but it wasn’t the test itself I dreaded, it was the next weigh in.

Chapter 12: 6th month checkup

The fateful day when the midwife would weigh me had arrived. Silly that that was the thing weighing most on my mind, no?

By now I had gotten into a pretty good rhythm of doing any blood work on the same day as my midwife appointment. The way it works to get blood work done, is waiting. Lots of waiting. Namely, sitting in a large, cold, grungy room while staring at a screen waiting for your number to be called. During Covid they would leave the doors and windows open often, so dress warm! This particular place had a malfunctioning number system, the same numbers would be called repeatedly, creating confusion. The first time your number is called, you go back for the “accettazione,” or handing over your tessera sanitaria and slip with the tests you need done. Then you go back to the waiting room and wait again, until your same number is called a second time, at which point you go back to one of the other rooms and they draw your blood. Then you’re done and you can either come back and pick up your results in a week (depending on the tests done, of course ) or have them mailed to you.

Knowing it could take anywhere between 20 minutes (as it did the second time I did bloodwork) to over 2 hours (as it did the first time), I arrived with a bit more than an hour to go before my midwife appointment, hoping that would be enough time. Being pregnant, I fortunately did not have to make an appointment to do blood work during Covid times, I could just show up and not only would they let me in, but the people taking temperatures and verifying why you’re there would also give me a priority number. Which I personally find a bit strange, as the vast majority of people waiting to get blood work done at any given time appear to be 60 and older, and although pregnant, I still think most of them should get priority over the youngest person waiting (usually me). As the time for my 11:00 appointment neared I despaired of getting the tests done that day. It is a bummer that these tests need to be done while fasting and I would have walked, taken a train, walked some more, and waited an hour without eating all for nought. At 10:50, just as I was thinking I would need to head upstairs for my appointment so as not to be late, my number was called to go back to accettazione. After handing over my tessera sanitaria I asked the lady what my chances were of being called back to get blood drawn within the next ten minutes? She replied not to worry, I could come back down after my appointment without having to wait with a new number, as long as I was back by 12:00 when they close. That should work, my midwife appointments are generally 30-45 minutes, so that should get me back down here just in time!

I scurried up to the waiting room, arriving at 11:05, to wait for my midwife to call me back. I waited, and waited. 11:15. 11:25. 11:30. Where is she? I won’t be able to make it back down now to do the blood tests! Urgh. Did she come looking for me at 11:00, and I wasn’t here yet? I am normally early, and she often calls me a bit early, so maybe she thought I wasn’t coming today?? Finally at 11:35 she appears and apologizes for being late today. She sees my folder out with the test papers and asks if I have more test results for her to look at? No, these are ones I was supposed to do today but ran out of time. She suggests I run down and do the blood work and then return to her. I felt bad about that, since I’d be making her wait. She then suggests we do the appointment really quick, so I can get back down by 12:00. That works! I had no burning issues to discuss with her, so she made photocopies of my most recent tests, weighed me, took my blood pressure, made sure I was feeling ok in general, and then off I was! Fastest appointment ever, only 15 minutes! Didn’t even have time to chide me on my weight, aha! She did have to take my blood pressure twice since the first time was higher than usual. The second was better, if still a bit high, but she said it was her fault since she had stressed me trying to figure out how to fit everything in.

Now 11:50, I hurried back down and was able to get my blood work done, hurray! No wait, either. Now, where’s my pastry???

Thus marked the end of the second trimester appointments.


To be continued…

Pregnancy: The Italian Edition - Part 1

Oh, hello there! Continuing on with this newer branch of posts of pregnancy in Italy and all things related.

IMG_3579.jpg

If you’re reading this, I’m going to hazard a guess that you’re either curious of what pregnancy is like in Italy, or you or someone you know who lives in Italy is pregnant. Either way, welcome, it’s an interesting experience to say the least, and hopefully an interesting and informative read. While many women share their birth stories (and I love reading those!), it might be unusual that I’m sharing here my “pregnancy story.” But the whole experience was so…ahem, different, that I wanted to share it. I’m also seriously considering a Postpartum: Italian Edition. Hahaha.

A few things before I get rolling.

  1. What follows is an in depth recap of my pregnant experience in Florence, Italy. It might ramble, but it does me good to write it out and it just may be helpful, or at the very least, entertaining to someone out there. Someday, maybe, my child will read this and realize what I went through for him. Ha! :) What every mom goes through, really, but Italy’s just a treat. Just….a treat. That said, speed-reading and scrolling aren’t offensive to me, I won’t even know if you do. Scroll away.

  2. This is my first pregnancy, so while I may do a lot of comparison/contrast with the US, I have no first-hand experience of being pregnant or giving birth in the US. However, my mom has had five kids in America, not to mention most the people I know, plus I have family who work as baby nurses, lots of nieces and nephews, and my doula lives in America, so I do have lots of shared information from them.

  3. This pregnancy was also largely lived in the midst of a world pandemic. Heyyyy, 2020. If you are, like me, an expat living in Italy and pregnant and reading this blog for information, keep in mind that my experience will probably be somewhat different than yours. World pandemic aside, your experience would probably still differ from mine, because. Italy. The land of inconsistency.

  4. When I refer to pregnancy by weeks, i.e. 20 weeks pregnant, I am going by the commonly used system in the medical world of counting from the first day of the last period. I use this to avoid confusion as it seems to be the mainstay in both Italy and the US, even though the first “two weeks” of pregnancy by this system a woman is not technically pregnant. I believe back when my mom was having babies, and in the world of Ina May Gaskin, they tend to count from the day of conception, usually about two weeks after a woman’s period. This means this more “old fashioned” though realistic way of counting gives you two weeks less of pregnancy. So while my midwife might say, you’re 20 weeks pregnant, technically, as my mom would say, you’re 18 weeks pregnant.

Here goes nothing:


Pregnancy: The Italian Edition - Part 1, the First Trimester

Chapter 1: Finding out you’re pregnant

Tada, two bars!
Annnnd now what? I decided not to immediately rush off to the doctor, as from what I had understood, they would probably just confirm the pregnancy, telling me what I already know. There isn't a whole lot you can do in the first bit of pregnancy, other than ride out the symptoms and do what I already knew to do; avoid the pregnancy prohibited foods, take a good prenatal vitamin, get good rest, etc. At least, that’s how I heard it works in America.

Chapter 2: Confirming your pregnancy with your doctor

I waited until I was 9 weeks pregnant, then after talking with my husband and mom, decided it was time to go to the doctor. First step was to go to my primary care doctor, who, as I had understood from some other blog posts about pregnancy in Italy, would order the test to confirm the pregnancy. Then I would have to get the pregnancy booklet and be assigned a midwife or gynecologist to follow me through the pregnancy. Something like that.

In Italy, once you sign up for the national healthcare and get your tessera sanitaria, or healthcare card, (which should be valid for as long as your permesso is valid) you can then choose your primary care doctor. Unless you’ve heard of someone you want specifically, your doctor is usually chosen based on proximity. I chose mine because he has an office less than a 10 minute walk from where I lived. Primary care doctors can have up to 3 different offices throughout the city, and are at each office on different days only for 3-4 hours at a time. You should receive a paper at the time you choose your doctor which lists office hours and locations. The offices are quite plain, and you are usually seen on a first come first serve basis. They might have an examination table, but from my observations it’s more decorative. I see the primary care doctor as more of a stepping stone. He’s mostly good for prescribing medicines for common complaints such as colds, flu, rashes, etc. If you need to see a specialist or have any kind of exams done, you will be given a “ticket” which will allow you to make an appointment through the “CUP” system or enable you to go to one of the offices where they do tests. I have yet to see a doctor do more than ask a few basic questions. Never once have I or my husband had our eyes, ears, nose, blood pressure, weight, height, or any of these basic checks done while visiting a family doctor, no matter the complaint.

My husband and I walked to the doctor’s office and waited about an hour before it was my turn. We told him I was pregnant, he congratulated us, then asked for my card. What card if not the tessera sanitaria? I always love these situations where people ask me for things that I don’t have or know what they’re talking about. Apparently without this card (not my tessera sanitaria) he couldn’t put me into the “system” to give me the appointment ticket. He told us to talk to the secretary, as she could help us understand what card this is and what it looks like, based on where I had signed up for my tessera sanitaria. Apparently when I signed up almost two years ago I was given a little paper card that I’m supposed to bring to my chosen doctor the first time I see him. The secretary described what it looked like and told us we can come back tomorrow evening with the card. This was frustrating to me since I had seen the doctor once already and he didn’t ask for this card then, probably because he prescribed me a medicine and that was that, there was no need to put me in the system for further appointments. I went home, located the card, and sure enough written at the bottom was, “bring to doctor at first visit.” Well I’ll be. The next day my sweet husband offered to precede me to the doctor’s office and call me when it was almost my turn, so I wouldn’t have to wait again while feeling sick. That wasn’t even necessary since the secretary took the card and told my husband to come back in an hour, she would take my card in to the doctor herself and get the appointment ticket. A little more than an hour later my husband was back home and I now had the slip to make the appointment with a gynecologist.

I headed to the ASL (healthcare agency I think is what you might call that in English?) near Santarosa where you can make appointments through the CUP system in person. After getting a number and seeing how many people were ahead of us, we got a cappuccino and pastry from the lovely next door bistrot (Santarosa Bistrot) while we waited, then headed back in time for my number to be called. The signora took the appointment slip from my doctor, and made me an appointment with a gynecologist for 6 days later. 6 days is great, considering these appointments can range from weeks to months in the future, or I’ve even heard “don’t even dream about getting an appointment they’re so booked out.” So yes. 6 days is great. Especially because pregnancy is not a lifelong condition.

Chapter 3: First appointment with a gynecologist or midwife

6 days later I was off to my first appointment with the gynecologist. Searching for the office where my appointment would be on Google maps, I noticed it was quite far from where I lived. It would take over an hour in public transport to get there, for an appointment at 9:20am. Oh well. This is Italy.

A train ride, a tram ride, a bus ride, and a short walk later, I was near to where my appointment would be. I had a lovely headache and nausea that had me planning the nearest safe place to up-chuck at any given point. Thankfully I didn’t, and a little plain croissant somehow managed to greatly ease my nausea and headache. Not mad about it being a croissant.

I found the office, was told where to go and wait, and after probably 15 minutes was called back by the doctor. I sat down opposite her, and she asked what she was doing for me today. I told her I was pregnant and took her completely by surprise. Oh! That’s wonderful, but strange there was no note made by my primary doctor at all that this was a prenatal appointment; she was expecting a routine checkup. She asked if I had had this pregnancy confirmed? Just by an at home test. She asked some general information and health history. When she calculated how far along I was, she was yet again surprised. You’re already 11+3!? (That’s 11 weeks 3 days, if you are like me and wasn’t quite sure what the “+3” is for) Yep. At that point she started to act a little harried, because I was coming in so “late,” and wasn’t shy about letting me know that. (Er, I’m sorry for not knowing? I’m sorry my primary doctor didn’t even ask how far along I was and didn’t make the correct notes and didn’t tell me at all the next steps, and that maybe I should get on it asap? Yes, I can be very sassy in my head.) Another gynecologist came into the room and started helping as well, especially once they found out I didn’t have the pregnancy booklet of appointments yet, which you need a separate appointment to get. You see, the national health care for pregnant women is completely free, aside from any extra tests a doctor may recommend and prescriptions, and all the tests that need to be done throughout the nine months are contained in this Libretto di Gravidanza, or pregnancy booklet. Each test can only be done in a certain window of time in your pregnancy, and if you miss this window, you would have to go and get these done in private. If you miss the first test, as I almost did, I guess you’d be forced to go private for the whole pregnancy? Not exactly sure on that, but that is what the gyno was implying to me. Honestly, you’d have more control over choosing your doctor and might receive better care if you were to go into the private sector. However, everything would be out of pocket, I’m guessing 50+euro per visit, plus all the tests.

The second doctor went to go see if she could make me an appointment asap to get the libretto, while the first doctor confirmed my pregnancy by ultrasound (quicker than waiting for blood or urine tests). I got to see my baby, although I thought the tail/bum was the head until the doctor pointed out the actual head…oh, sorry, baby, I’ll learn your head from your bum by the time you come out, promise! She casually asked how long I was in Florence for. Well, indefinitely as I met and married my husband here. Again, she was surprised, thinking I was a student here just for a short time. I take it from that exchange that that scenario is not so uncommon? Especially since that is her first guess, knowing only that I’m “young” (26 at that point) and American? Then again most first time moms here are mid thirties so it may just be unusual to see someone in their twenties that wasn’t an “oops.” No oops here!

The second doctor came back with three appointment options to get the libretto, but recommended the soonest one, which was back at this same office in a few days. They asked where I lived and when hearing I had come from so far, they exclaimed, “oh you poor thing! We can’t have you trekking back here for all your appointments, especially when the hot summer comes along and you’ll be in your third trimester.” (Thank you, I do appreciate that!) The second doctor left again to see if there were any other options, and managed to get her hands on a libretto and some spare time, so I got to do my libretto appointment with the second doctor almost immediately following the first appointment, cancelling the appointment they had just made for me. So in some ways, coming in late saved me some travels and appointments, even if I put them in a bit of a tizzy!

Chapter 4: Appointment for the Libretto di Gravidanza

The libretto appointment basically involved the second doctor gathering a lot of information I had already given, general health information, questions about the pregnancy, then going over basic pregnancy do’s and don’ts quickly, and booking my first appointments from the libretto all the way through the second trimester ultrasound. She was supposed to take my blood pressure and a few other things, but as I said, they were a bit flustered and inadvertently skipped some things.

First up in the libretto was to do a round of blood and urine tests the very next morning. The day after that I would have my first appointment with the midwife who would follow me throughout my pregnancy, at a healthcare center much closer to where I lived. Yay. In Italy you are followed by a midwife if you’re considered low-risk, and a gynecologist if you’re considered high-risk. I was supposed to have the results from the tests ready when I went to my first midwife appointment, but since they take a week that wasn’t possible, and the doctor told me not to worry about that.

Chapter 5: First Midwife Appointment

My birthday present was getting to meet my midwife. Little did I know that this would also be the last appointment that my husband would be allowed in, with Covid-19 lurking around the corner.

My midwife turned out to be a kind woman who seemed to be in this line of work since the 80’s or 90’s. She has a slow and thorough manner of speaking, but I appreciated that as someone whose native tongue isn’t Italian and being my first pregnancy, left me feeling like I could ask questions without annoying her. Too often people who are, let’s say on the job, don’t give you the time of day if you want to ask a question and brush you off or recite some rote answer so fast you can’t understand them. Unfortunately that’s what happens in a country where rules are treated like guidelines, there is disorganization everywhere or excessive organization that way over complicates things, leaving the civilians irritated and needing assistance from people who are already underpaid and irritated because they have to deal with angry people all day. When you do get someone kind, it really makes your day. A reminder to us all to be that person.

The first appointment with the midwife was all information collecting and getting to know each other a bit, mostly the same stuff I had already gone over with the other gynecologists but more thorough.

When I get nervous or don’t really know what response someone wants from me, I tend to ramble. So when the midwife got to the part about any surgeries I’ve undergone, I decided to mention that I had broken my leg when I was 3, as I couldn’t remember if there was surgery but I do know they put me under. It was my growth plate in my leg that I had broken, and at the time was a big deal if my leg would grow properly or not. It did, but as I’m explaining all this to the midwife I’m realizing that this is probably irrelevant and try to draw to a close this confusing tale I’ve woven, not knowing the word for “growth plate” in Italian and also conveniently forgetting the word “anesthesia.” I’m trying to dismiss what I’ve said as the midwife is sitting there looking quite concerned over this dramatic tale I’ve told for naught. Oh dear. Finally we agreed that since it was my knee, and not a hip or something pertinent to birth, it probably doesn’t matter. Haha oh dear. Hold your tongue, Jenny.

Favorite take-aways from the appointment:

  • Once again being told my job as a baker is not suitable for a pregnant woman. My midwife went further to explain that any job that requires a woman to be on her feet for more than 4 hours at a time is too much. Unless my boss is willing to change my duties and allow me to “pull up a chair to the cash register”, I am eligible and should take the anticipated maternity leave. This was very surprising to me as most women I know in America work up until they about pop!

  • Being told I must wash any raw fruits and veggies at least 6 times before eating them. My husband can wash his just 3 times, but he has to wash mine 6. :D

  • Talking about pregnancy diet do’s and don’ts, my midwife asked if I like to eat raw meat. Uh. that would be a no? She meant raw meat as in undercooked, rare, like the famous bistecca fiorentina. Nope, not a big meat eater at all, especially beef and pork. She made an off hand comment about well, we’ll see when my blood results come back, so then I can eat raw meat and raw vegetables if I want. Worst that could happen is I would get salmonella or something. Worst? Haha what is this lady going on about? (Apparently toxoplasmosis is a really big deal in Europe, and if I had already come into contact with it, then I would have been “safe” to eat the raw meat and vegetables. However, my blood results came back negative, so getting toxoplasmosis now during pregnancy is potentially dangerous for baby, which is why I had to continue not eating raw meat and veggies, among other things.) It’s funny because she never even mentioned raw fish/sushi or alcohol.

  • Upon learning I was a professional ballerina and still quite active, she emphasized to me that I “can’t use my abdominals.” Having heard ab-centric exercises like crunches and planks aren’t good to do while pregnant, I think I knew what she was on about, and yet I had to press her a bit because it was such a blanket statement. She does realize that most bodily functions involve your abdominals? That I would be bed ridden if I can’t use them at all? She clarified about meaning ab exercises, and went on to say that walking and arm exercises are good. Annnnnd yep, that’s about all she gave me. At the end of this pregnancy I may be very out of shape, but at least my arms will be chiseled. That will really help with labor. Yep.

  • Being weighed with shoes and boots on (it’s winter). When asked to step on the scale I asked if I should remove them, and midwife says, “no, don’t worry about it.” Alrighty then.

Chapter 6: The screening

A few days later came the screening for certain health conditions, including screening for Down, Edward’s, and Patau Syndromes. I believe this screening is optional in the US, but here it has been a part of the recommended libretto exams for about a year as of March 2020. Now being on the other side, I would have asked to skip the screening, as not even a 100% positive for some condition (which isn’t even possible from what I understood) could have persuaded me to even consider ever aborting my baby, and any false positivity only creates undue stress in an already new and sometimes stressful time in life. False-positivity and false-negativity are not uncommon. Not to mention that this screening (made up of blood work and an ultrasound) is only the first step in ascertaining the “risk.” If you are found to be at any kind of risk, medium or high, you will be offered to do a DNA blood test, at a reduced cost of 200euro. (If you’re low risk but desire to have the second blood work done, the whole 400euro cost is out of pocket.) If the second blood work confirms the medium or high risk, you can go on to have the amniocentesis or CVS done.

The screening was done in a group at 8:00am at the Palagi hospital not far from Piazzale Michelangelo. On the appointment slip we were asked to arrive early and have our partners accompany us. We arrived even earlier than asked, found out where to go, and found the doors to the women’s center where we were supposed to go still locked. Yes, let’s keep the pregnant ladies outside waiting on a brisk March morning. As more women continued to arrive, the nurse, who was inside the whole time, finally came and unlocked the doors for us. She then sent us on our way to wait some more. In the end we were probably a dozen or so women altogether, and typical Italy, we were asked to arrive early and yet they started late. The first part of the screening was a talk on what to expect from the screening, possible results, and what they mean. Except the partners weren’t allowed in for the talk, due to the ever-growing presence of coronavirus in the country. The poor men, woke up early, maybe took off work to come with their wives as requested only to find they have to wait for them outside. The screening talk took about 45 minutes, then we were told to wait to be called one by one to sign a paper with the doctor. Another 45 or so minutes and I was called back, this time husbands could come; I signed the paper and was told to go get the blood work done. We found our way to the lab area, took a number, and waited some more. We also would have to go to the CUP area of the hospital after to make an appointment for the anatomical ultrasound. Based on the number of people ahead of me to get blood drawn, we decided to run to the CUP area and make the appointment. When we got there, we had to get a number and there was yet another wait. Time was ticking, and not wanting to miss my number for bloodwork, we ran back to the lab to check to see where they were at. Nope, I still had plenty of time! Run back to CUP, my number is called and I make the appointment, then back to the lab to wait some more and get the blood drawn. After the nurse drew my blood I asked where I could pick up the results. She told me not to worry about picking them up, they will be ready for me when I come for the ultrasound in a few days.

More than 3 hours later and we were done. Now to get two buses back home.

Chapter 7: Anatomical ultrasound and screening results

Four days after the screening talk we went back for my anatomical ultrasound and screening results. As I walked through the door the doctor was already calling my name to go back. I had arrived on time, but was off to a flustered start because the receptionist needed to see my healthcare card before I could go back. The doctor told me to come back to room 1 when I was ready. To our dismay my husband was not allowed back with me, even though there was a large notice on the counter stating that companions to patients should be limited to 1. My husband is 1 person, why can’t he come back?! No use arguing, it’ll just get you worked up so it’s usually best just to swallow the bitter inconsistency pills and go with it.

I went back by myself and the doctor asked, as always, some basic information, then for my blood work results. Not even thinking about the blood work that was done for this screening (duh, Jenny) because the nurse had told me I didn’t need to pick them up myself, I thought the doctor was referring to the first round of blood work, that still wasn’t ready. So I told her it’s not ready yet. “What do you mean it’s not ready yet?!” She was immediately riled and continued to tell me that me coming to this appointment was useless unless I had the blood work ready. I apologized and was trying to stay calm, explaining that the first gynecologist told me the blood work won’t be ready when I go in for my first appointments, and if it’s asked for, to tell them it’s not ready yet, but it’ll be ok. I’m just trying to do what I’m told here, please don’t get angry at me! At this point the doctor must have understood that we were talking about different blood work, as she started muttering something about she’ll check online. In a matter of seconds she found my blood work and printed it, the one she was after. (I have to ask myself why it would make more sense to expect a patient to go all the way to pick up results when she can access them in a matter of seconds?) She printed them and asked for my signed consent form from the screening talk. I handed them to her, and she tsked that I hadn’t filled out a section of the second page. “You were supposed to fill this out at home!” I again apologized, I didn’t know. I don’t recall being told about that second page, and if I was and missed it, I’m truly sorry, but you getting mad at me isn’t helping!! She ordered me to fill that section out while she went to get my blood work results from the printer. She came back and kept asking me questions, while I’m also trying to concentrate and fill out the consent form. It should’ve only taken a minute or so, but it took a little longer as I was upset and shaking because the doctor kept scolding me. In an admirable move of passive agressiveness, she flung my copy of the blood results at me. They would’ve gone flying off the desk if it hadn’t been for my folder lying open there.

From there she told me to lie on the table. I noticed the paper on the table look a bit rumpled, as if someone had already lain there. My normally non-confrontational self probably wouldn’t have said anything (I would rather lay on a table already lain on than risk “insulting” the doctor by asking if it had been changed), but at this point I was already in her bad graces and besides, I’m no longer just speaking up for myself but also the little human inside me. So I asked. And yes, she seemed insulted, and proceeded to explain that the paper rumpled when changing the table, and changed the paper again to prove it to me. Ok ok, thank you, that’s all I needed to know. Assured of a clean table, I laid down. She did the ultrasound, warning me that she would be working in silence and not to be alarmed if she didn’t say anything. I’m sure we were both relieved to be able to proceed in silence, and I was able to enjoy the process. The ultrasound took all of 10-15 minutes, and I got to see much more clearly this time my little baby. I was a bit disappointed that she only turned the heartbeat on once for a split second, other than that it was completely silent in the room. Once she told me I could get up, she handed me the largest wad of paper towel to clean the gel off of my belly, so much that I couldn’t contain it in my arms, while really only needing one square to wipe off the gel. The rest inadvertently fell on the floor, which she swooped in to retrieve and throw away. Ah, the strikes against me are mounting.

I sat back down in the chair opposite the doctor, and she launched into my results. She started by saying that because of my age and other factors, I’m low risk, except that the blood results showed the two hormones, Beta HCG and Papp A, were off, which would put me in the medium risk threshold. This finally put me over and I started to cry. I’m denied any kind of emotional support from my partner being there, the doctor doesn’t treat me kindly, and I get possibly bad news that my baby is at risk? She proceeded to say that my baby appeared perfectly healthy and nothing was off on the ultrasound, and to remember that everything indicates me being low risk except for the blood results being a bit off. She recommended I get the DNA blood work done for the reduced price of 200euro…200euro?! I had thought it was free if someone was medium-high risk or more? No, just half price. I told her nothing would change my mind about keeping my baby, but asked if I could at least talk to my husband first? Maybe he can help me think more clearly if we’d like to go ahead with further testing, so that at least we could prepare and educate ourselves on how best to love and care for a baby with one of these syndromes? She said that was fine, she would be moving on to see other patients, so let the receptionist know when I was ready to sign the paper for or against further testing. As she walked me out she asked if the price of the test would in any way discourage us from continuing. I told her it might, as I’m still trying to compose myself. She then rattled off some form online that we would have to fill out and file first to maybe get a discount. The what what form on the what what site? I was beyond trying to figure out more bureaucracy, so mostly just repeated some of the names of the forms she was telling me about and nodding and going, ok, ok, without having any idea what I was saying. Another doctor came out from her office, saw me standing there in tears talking to my doctor, asked if everything was ok? My doctor assured her we were.

I went outside to find my husband, who was dismayed to see me in tears. I got part of the story out to him and told him I needed to go back in with our answer. We decided not to continue with any testing. So I had to head back in, tell the receptionist I needed to see the doctor again with my answer, wait while trying not to cry and have everyone staring at me, then give the doctor my final answer, “no” to any more testing.

Poor Moez, wondering why his wife is the only one who comes out in tears when he’s seen every other woman come out smiling and glowing, walking away hand-in-hand with their partners and dreaming of their baby.

Both my mom and midwife assured me not to worry, there’s nothing I can do and stressing about it will only make things worse, when there’s probably not anything to worry about anyway. The Lord is in control and knitting this baby in my womb, and he/she will be born as His image bearer, to be loved and cherished!

Chapter 8: Second midwife appointment and pap test

A few days after screening results I was back to see my midwife, this time for a crowd favorite, the pap test. If it’s been a while or you have never done one in Italy, you will have to have it done. If you are between the ages of 25-33 you will probably get the pap, if you are 34 or older you will probably also have the HPV test done.

The original gynecologist had scheduled me a pap test with some other random gynecologist, but my midwife cancelled that appointment and remade it with herself since she would need to do a physical examination anyway, save me time and trouble.

This appointment happened on the same day that all of Italy was locked down for the first time. No actual measures were yet in place, except now my midwife started wearing a mask for my protection and we were supposed to keep 1 meter apart (aside from any actual exams which would prove a mite problematic.) Everything went smoothly, my midwife keeping me well informed of everything she was about to do and making sure I wasn’t stressed about coronavirus.

Favorite takeaway from this appointment:

  • Midwife casually asking me how I got to the appointment? I told her I walked. “Good for you!” A slight pause, then she asked me how far a walk it was for me? About 30 minutes. She then mentioned that walking is very good for me, but that 30 minutes is a bit much for a pregnant woman, so try and take a rest every 10-15 minutes or so. Ah, ok. Yes. The girl who has always walked many miles a day, dragging along anyone unfortunate enough to be with her, has become a delicate flower and must take breaks. I laughed on the inside, and if you knew what a crazy walker I can be (I’m sorry, family and friends!), you would laugh, too.

After the appointment later on my midwife called me because my tessera sanitaria (healthcare card) had expired two days previously, and the lab couldn’t process my pap results without first receiving proof of a new one. Great. In the middle of a pandemic when everything is now closed. In theory you are supposed to receive your new tessera sanitaria in the mail before the old one expires. Didn’t happen. I had to go to the nearest ASL office 30 minutes away, which thankfully was open. There was only one other man there. I’ve never seen it so empty! I promptly received a photocopy of my new tessera sanitaria with the assurance the new one would arrive in the mail within 3 weeks, but for some reason I didn’t completely understand, it is valid only for 4 months instead of the 2 years I was supposed to get. So I will have to renew it once again before this pregnancy is over. Ah well, I was able to send a photo to my midwife and get my results processed.

This marked my last appointment in the first trimester.

Stay tuned for part 2 - the second trimester








Thoughts on Pregnancy

I’m branching out a bit today, starting a new series or something akin to one that is a bit outside my usual of food and Italy. Of course, I spent all of my pregnancy in Italy so it will eventually tie in. Being currently under lockdown with a newborn as the second wave of Covid-19 rocks Italy, these thoughts and musings are starting to want to come out. While writing used to be the school task I abhorred, ironically I now find it enjoyable and even therapeutic when I write of my own initiative. Mostly these thoughts of late have to do with pregnancy, birth, and babies.

Those are pretty significant things in a person’s life, and there’s a reason why women love sharing their birth stories and reading them, especially when pregnant the first time (not just me reading them like they’re going out of style, right?). It’s a miracle of life, it’s natural, and well, life changing. So while some upcoming posts might focus on these subjects, I think it’s also important to note that this might not be an easy subject for everyone, and if you don’t want to read any further, well, you’re not missing out on much. I don’t take lightly my smooth pregnancy and healthy baby. A woman is whole and worthy, children or not. I want you to know that, as some of these posts may unabashedly proclaim how CRAZY COOL pregnancy and birth and babies are. And while it can be an instant connection between women, I also realize that not everyone can relate, and that’s not always by choice. I see you. I hear you. If you’re a mom reading this, you’re beloved. If you’re not a mom reading this, you’re beloved. That’s all.

Yes, pregnancy, birth, and babies are big life things. Huge, actually. I’ve only been pregnant once, given birth once, and only have one baby. Which makes me an expert and I’ll be sure to share with you all the tips and tricks. Just kidding. As you can see, my resume does not make me an expert in the field, I’m still green. A very green field. But I did experience these things in Italy, which is not my home country, culture, or language. During a world pandemic. With no family around except my husband, and moving apartments/cities. So as usual, the stories and observances just may help someone, or at the very least, provide some entertaining reading.


Thoughts on Pregnancy

IMG_3599.jpg

What follows is purely my experience and musings. That might be obvious, but if you’ve seen the interwebs and how people act on them of late, you’ll understand that it’s necessary, even on the silliest of posts, to have some kind of disclaimer.

Being pregnant wasn’t as hard as I was expecting

Maybe this was partly the cultural narrative I saw so much, and partly our age of “bringing awareness” and “normalizing” certain things, which is OK and good most of the time. But when I’m looking at our cultural depiction of pregnancy and seeing all these women being “real” on social media about their pregnancies, birth, postpartum, and parenting, I began to get the idea that pregnancy was going to be this constant battle of symptoms and misery. Then the opposite turned out to be true. Don’t get me wrong, you’re growing another child, it’s not a walk in the park. It’s fascinating just how different each woman and each pregnancy can be.

Lightning crotch? Baby bouncing on the bladder? Stretch marks? Mood swings? Lower back pain? What are those? I think I really did have a relatively easy pregnancy, with much grace from the Lord helping me get through not only the physical aspects of carrying a child, but the mental stress of 2020. I did have my share of symptoms, just maybe not the worst, or all of them together. Of course nausea, headaches, (but Tylenol often worked which is a miracle), fatigue, third trimester insomnia, and significant edema (fluid retention; third trimester during a hot Florentine summer with no AC will do that).

Then there were the fun parts of pregnancy! I enjoyed how amazing food tasted all the time, the kindness strangers bestowed, everyone always guessing boy or girl once they discovered we chose not to find out, the baby movements! The superhuman smell could go both ways. I loved walking down the street narrating what people were making for lunch inside their apartments. “Oh someone is frying onions and garlic in butter…ope, they just added some red bell peppers…” … “oh that smells like a wonderful tomato sauce, I want their recipe!” … “do you think that house would pity a hungry pregnant woman and invite her in for a roast chicken lunch??” Anything anyone else was eating, that’s what I then craved. On the other hand, all the unsavory smells were also amplified, and everything in between. One evening I asked my husband if he smelled smoke, as if something was burning. He didn’t. We were inside the apartment with all windows closed. The next day we were walking and about a quarter mile from our apartment there was a small spot where something had burned near the trash bins. I turned to my husband, “HA see?!” Something did burn, haha!

I didn’t turn into a whale

I don’t know why, but I completely expected to turn into a whale, and I was ok with that, if that meant baby was growing and healthy! Neither the bump nor weight gain reached my imagination’s expectation. I also think that I was expecting a bump that was worthy of a triplet pregnancy. Not complaining! Although my Italian midwife certainly made me feel like I was nearing elephant status, but the edema as previously mentioned did get me. By August my feet looked like clubs and I had lost all sight of any once prominent veins. And a puffy face. It happened gradually enough it didn’t particularly bother me, and even if it had, it’s well worth it!

It’s amazing how 9 months was the perfect amount of time to get used to the idea of having a baby

9 months is so long. It’s the better part of a year! And yet, 9 months is so short. Am I prepared to be a parent?? Longing and dreading the end of the 9 months. It’s amazing how those 40ish weeks are exactly the time I needed for it to sink in, that I was going to be mommy and there is no looking back from parenthood. Well, at least to get to that point where you’re as mentally prepared as you can be without it actually happening, ya know? God knew what He was doing when He made it 9 months!

A whole new wardrobe wasn’t needed

Naturally, as I had expected to turn into a glowing whale, I also expected to need a whole new wardrobe. While this might be some women’s dream (the wardrobe not the whale part), this thought only served to stress me out. I have to spend how much money on clothes that I’ll only wear a few months?? (I realize there could be future pregnancies, but what if the third trimester doesn’t fall in the summer again?) However, I was pleasantly surprised that some clothes in my closet fit the whole pregnancy! It helps that I wear a lot of flowy dresses and skirts and several of them have some choice pieces of elastic that apparently work great for expanding waistlines. I should keep those in mind for Thanksgiving…

Not finding out the gender of our baby was a lot harder than I expected

No, not because the suspense was killing me, I was actually completely at terms with not knowing, but because it’s so hard to find cute neutral colors for anything baby! I kept finding myself wishing I knew because gosh, there’s really cute boy clothes and really cute girl clothes, but I can’t get any of them until after baby is born, but we need to be prepared! While gray is nice to offset some of the pink and blue tones, it’s a bit of bummer when all you can find is gray and white. Green is such a nice color. Why don’t they make more green?? Even trying to find a baby comb. Pink or blue? Uh. Where’s your gray? Haha. I managed to find a mint green one hidden in the back. Italy, at least Florence, has a poor selection of baby stores and what it does have, are high prices. I really missed the ease of American shopping in these times. Even Amazon Italy didn’t have much. Add on top of that the seemingly interrupted supply chains, after adding something to my baby list it would become unavailable within a week, or the price would jump all around dramatically. No thanks, I don’t want to pay €15 for a small bottle of baby shampoo.

All of the non-scientific ways to guess baby’s gender are highly enjoyable

Oh yeah, I tried all the tricks and read all the old midwives’ tales, just for fun.

  • According to the Chinese Gender Predictor, I was having a girl

  • The ring test predicted girl

  • By the way I carried and the shape of my bump, boy, as many strangers enjoyed informing me!

  • Nausea only in the first trimester, boy, although some say no nausea means boy, so I guess that could go either way. But with people I know, the former was true, so I went with boy on this one!

  • I wanted more salty things and wasn’t as sweets crazy as I normally am, seeming to indicate boy

  • Heartbeat, my mom’s favorite “fun” indicator. Baby’s heartbeat hovered between 145-155 usually, stubbornly in the middle, although slightly hovering towards girl.

  • The pregnancy “glow.” My acne actually went away while pregnant, yay! Which would mean boy, as they give you the glow, and baby girls supposedly steal your beauty. On the other hand, my Tunisian sister-in-law said the opposite, I was “even prettier” (Aw gee) and therefore I was having a girl.

What did I think I was having? A boy. My husband thought so, too. As did 95% of Italians whom I had interactions with or were simply passing me on the street. I thought I was having a boy because, besides instinct, I was craving not just salty things but heavy “man” food I don’t normally even like, think hamburgers and French fries and just MEAT in general. I normally could easily survive as a vegetarian. Beyond that, the morning sickness seemed a successful indicator for several people I know, besides swelling I mostly had a basketball out front, and a ahem, fuzzy belly. It looked like I had the linea nigra from afar but really it was just a line of fine hair! I only discovered that I did in fact have a faint linea nigra after I gave birth.

Ah, pregnancy can be a funny thing!


And there you go, a bunch of information you didn’t need to know! In the works, what it’s like being pregnant and having a baby in Italy!