You may have already gathered we are going to Australia to have the baby….? 

Given the fact I’ll be 32 weeks pregnant (i.e. a mammoth), it’s a 24 hour flight and we have no house or jobs many people are assuming I’ve finally gone off the deep end.   They could be right.   Yet when faced with the alternative of delivering in Holland, it’s a no brainer.  Here are some lessons I’ve learned about the Dutch approach to childbirth 

• When I asked my GP about the option of epidural he told me “In Holland we do not offer this as women must suffer to appreciate being mothers”.  I felt a strong physical urge to make him understand suffering right there and then but restrained myself and settled for a verbal onslaught.  I told him his outdated, sexist attitude might explain why Holland has the highest infant mortality rate in Europe. He replied in dead seriousness that the real reason for the high rate was all the immigrants moving to Holland.  I got up and left. 
• After switching to an American GP I asked for a referral to an obstetrician to take care of my prenatal care and the delivery.  She told me OBs don’t exist in Holland.  High risk pregnancies are handled by gynecologists but the majority of pregnancies go through midwife practices.   I told her given my family history of complications I wanted a qualified doctor.  She valiantly called every gynecologist in the state, but they all refused to take me on, even if I paid out of my own pocket.   So I pay 200AUD a month for private health insurance and can’t see a doctor while I’m pregnant.

• My GP researched the most “progressive” midwife practice in Utrecht and sent me to the WKZ hospital.  I have to admit my midwife, Rita, is really nice.  She sees quite a few foreigners who are accustomed to a higher standard of health care so she’s heard all the outrage before.  She told me the standard is to deliver at home, I could try and get into a hospital but my insurance wouldn’t cover it unless there are complications.  In addition to this a hospital delivery is midwife assisted and I can’t choose the midwife.  That’s probably the scariest part as all other midwives I’ve met are bullying, moralistic and full of misinformation (e.g. at my first birth class the midwife told me delivering in hospital is “bad” for the baby…..)  

If this weren’t enough every time I speak to somebody about their birth experience it’s a nightmare.   

• One colleague at Canon called up the midwife when his wife’s contractions were 3 minutes apart and intense.  The midwife told him she was busy having a coffee with friends and would stop by later to check in, the midwife didn’t show for hours, didn’t answer his calls and he ended up delivering his wife’s baby himself
• Another colleague was in labour for 48 hours.  She was in agony and wanted to go to hospital.   Her midwife told her to stop being so childish and forced her husband downstairs where they watched TV while she was screaming upstairs alone.  Eventually the husband called an ambulance; she had an emergency c-section and was told the baby almost died
• An Australian colleague who thought she could outsmart the midwife mafia made her midwife promise to organize an epidural if she asked for one.  When labour started the midwife kept stalling her when she requested they leave for the hospital.  By the time they arrived it was too late for pain relief.  The midwife told her smugly that it was her plan all along

Is it crazy in this country or is it just me?   If I hear one more time that the rest of the world “medicalises” the natural process of childbirth I’ll scream. 100 years ago 1 in 10 women died during childbirth.  Things can go wrong, even in low risk pregnancies.   I’m not advocating that all women get drugged up and have a medical army on call.  But it is 2007, shouldn’t we be able to choose the type of healthcare we feel most comfortable with?   

There are only 61 days left until I touch down at Melbourne airport. Yes, my return to the Land of Oz is imminent.   In many ways I feel just like Dorothy.  I’ve had great adventures, made loyal friends, fought dramatic battles with wicked witches and had many moments where I’ve wanted to click my heels and wake up at home.   But now that I’m actually going home I wonder how it will turn out.  I’m not the same person I was when I arrived here 5 years ago.  Sure I’m older, a little wiser and have acquired a quiet confidence that I can handle anything.  Yet I’ve also come to know a darker side of the human psyche.  

I first witnessed it in myself.  The cringe worthy raw desperation I felt, the compromises I made for the acceptance that never came.   It was humbling but I learned from the experience and can (sometimes) look back and laugh at my own ridiculousness.   

It’s the ugliness I saw in others that still haunts me.  I’ve made no secret here of the conflicts I’ve had with some in-laws, one of Jarno’s acquaintances and even one of my own friends.   Perhaps it was that same desperation that lead me into relationships with people I would have avoided like the plague in a more rational time.  I try earnestly to write it off to insecurity, fear or just plan group behaviour yet even with the perspective of time it offends my basic sense of fairness. 

Even scarier, I now question my old assumption that whatever people do it’s coming from a good place.   

Are you scoffing right now?  Do you want to yell  

“Earth to Suze…  no life isn’t fair and people do suck. You are 29 how can you not know that?” 

To be honest with you I didn’t know that.  I came here young and innocent, looking for love and the adventure of a lifetime.  There’s no doubt I found that, I just wish I hadn’t ended up a little jaded along the way.