We had kind of a shit twenty four hours where we thought Bean (the baby I am carrying for my partner and I to love very much) was breach. We want a home birth, so this was kind of a big problem. Also in our small town (which calls itself a city but it really isn't), the only way to deliver a breach baby is by c-section. Surgery fucks me up super hard and I didn't want to spend my first two months as a parent brain fogged into oblivian.
The midwife we're seeing thought Bean might be breach because she was hearing a heartbeat really high up, so she called the radiologist who immediately called us and got us in the next day (this morning). False alarm! Bean is head down. And we didn't sit around and suffer about it. And we didn't pay anything. And then I went and got a massage, which is largely covered by my insurance.
The massage therapist is a kinky ex-evangelical-turned-queer. The ultrasound tech asked about our experiences with at-homne IUI and thinks we're so cool. I live in a rural, conservative place and keep having excellent healthcare for which--and I cannot stress this enough--I do not pay even a cent. I know, I know, Canada isn't perfect, especially Alberta. We're in the middle of a teacher strike because classes have 50 students in them; they're tryna import U.S. transphobia and fascism here (trust me, Alberta, you do not want this). And Canada is a colonial state that has wreaked havoc on Indigenous peoples since before its founding. I know. And also. My life is so much better here. I moved from Ohio. I spent so much time trying to get testosterone and trying not to get shot. I fucking love this place.