Category: Dreaming of Doctorhood

Enter My Daughter — The Birth That Felt Like a Five-Star Retreat

~ thelazydesi38 ~ Leave a comment

June 2019 gave me my only daughter —

born in a renowned birth center housed inside the region’s most elite hospital system.

They blended luxury, evidence-based care, and autonomy so flawlessly it felt like the childbirth equivalent of checking into a spa.

She was overdue by two weeks,

labor spanned two days,

pushing lasted twelve hours,

and yet —

it was transcendent.

Quiet.

Held.

Empowered.

She slid into the world in warm water, peacefully asleep and undisturbed,

the culmination of a decade-long arc of learning, reclaiming, and commanding my own body’s narrative.

I Became the Woman Who Negotiated With Institutions and Won

~ thelazydesi38 ~ Leave a comment

Some people learn to be assertive in career boardrooms.

I learned in labor rooms.

By now, I was:

▫️ a veteran researcher

▫️ a child birth expert

▫️ an emotionally bulletproof mother

▫️ someone who could decode medical language quicker than residents

I realized something profound:

When you combine scientific literacy with unshakeable statistical data,

you become a force that even the hospital staff hesitates to challenge.

Pregnancy #4 — When My Birth Plan Became a Thesis

~ thelazydesi38 ~ Leave a comment

It’s 2017 and I am no longer playing defense.

I wrote 348-page laminated birth plans signed by me and the doctor.

Categorized. Indexed. Color-coded.

Bindered for each staff member like a conference packet.

I was gestational-diabetic this time (a condition that never left afterward),

(though diet-controlled and unmedicated of my own volition, thank you very much)

but even so — the new hospital treated me with respect.

Let me labor naturally.

Honored every line of my birth plan.

My fourth son arrived full-term, wonderfully overdue, and beautifully ready at over 7 lbs.

It was the most collaborative medical experience of my life.

Pregnancy #3 — The Reclaiming of My Birth Power

~ thelazydesi38 ~ Leave a comment

By 2015, I’ve gotten fully fluent in the language of female anatomy.

I’m also done with institutions trying to write my story for me.

So when I became pregnant again this time, I built my own birth universe:

hypnobabies tracks, midwifery care, a sacred quiet space, and the deep immersive calm only a woman who knows her physiology can summon.

My third son was born only 22 minutes ago —

at home, in warm water, in my own bedroom, surrounded by serenity.

No fluorescent lights.

No ticking clocks.

No coercion disguised as “protocol.”

He was full-term, overdue by two weeks, peaceful and perfect —

and weighed nearly 6 lbs, twice the weight of my earlier babies, proving what I always knew:

A womens’ body works best when left alone.

(Hint: Women work best this way in general)

The Moment My Autonomy Activated Permanently

~ thelazydesi38 ~ Leave a comment

Walking out of that hospital with my healthy preemie in my arms, I knew two things:

My instincts were right. I would never step foot in that hospital again.

It wasn’t defiance.

It was clarity.

A kind of internal lock-in where all maternal, intellectual, and scientific circuits fused together.

Birth wasn’t something happening to me anymore.

It was something happening through me — and I was the navigator.

Calcified Placenta: The Convenient Diagnosis of the Unconvinced”

~ thelazydesi38 ~ Leave a comment

At 32 weeks they floated the phrase “possible placental calcification,”

a term physicians sometimes use the way lawyers use “allegedly.”

It wasn’t presenting clinically.

It wasn’t supported by my labs.

It wasn’t behaving like a legitimate complication.

But it was extremely convenient for their scheduling matrix.

Still — I agreed to induction only because I assessed every factor myself.

And my son arrived completely healthy, small but mighty, a perfect little 4-pound miracle who held onto my finger like he’d been waiting centuries to meet me.

This moment crystallized something:

they don’t always know more — sometimes they simply talk louder.

The Hospital That Loved Scheduling Babies Like Hair Appointments

~ thelazydesi38 ~ Leave a comment

The place I delivered my first was… let’s be polite and call it “procedure-happy.”

The kind of hospital that treated inductions like a lunch special and C-sections like a preferred seating upgrade.

And here I was in 2012, returning during a pregnancy they were very eager to “manage.”

Per their protocol, “management” meant:

▫️ artificially create concern

▫️ threaten the clock

▫️ funnel patients toward their favorite revenue streams

Fortunately for me, I had a doula certification.

Unfortunately for them… I had a doula certification.

The Quiet Triumph I Hid Behind My Hoodie”

~ thelazydesi38 ~ Leave a comment

2008 — Age 18

I never told anyone I was studying for the GED.

Not because I was ashamed — but because the world had already formed its verdict about me: distracted, chaotic, inconsistent, “too much potential, not enough follow-through.”

So I studied in silence.

At night.

With about a hundred prep books (bought in secret), a dying pen, and my brain doing that electric-storm thing it does when my ADHD decides to turn into a superpower.

When I finally sat for the test, the staff kept glancing at me like they knew how the story usually ends for girls like me — bright eyes, tired spirit, a transcript full of interruptions.

Then the scores came.

One of the administrators actually did a double-take.

Another asked if I’d ever considered college-level research work.

Someone else whispered, “We’ve never seen this version of the exam scored this high.”

But the real earthquake?

My father.

He was livid when he found out I’d taken the GED behind his back — furious that I’d stepped out of the traditional plan he’d drawn for me.

Until he saw the scores.

His face shifted in real time:

anger → confusion → disbelief → something dangerously close to pride.

For the first time, it felt like the universe stamped a gold seal on the truth I had always carried quietly:

✨ I am not behind. I am not broken.

I was simply unrecognized brilliance waiting for a moment of silence to prove itself.

And I did. Or did I?