It’s Not You; It’s Me.


Dear ___________________,

We need to talk.  It’s not you, it’s me.  I mean that.  You’ve been doing the same thing this whole time, but I’ve changed.  My goals have changed.  So I need to find someone new: someone who not only understands me and my goals and takes the time to listen, but also someone who wholeheartedly supports me.


Let’s face it: we go way back, and we’ve had some good times together.  You are pretty familiar with parts of me that not many others have even seen.  You know some of my most private details.  We’ve talked about planning a family for years.  You were there for me when I was scared about that lump in my right breast (which thankfully was just fibrous tissue!).  But our history isn’t enough to go on.  I’m looking forward now.  I’m having a baby, but it’s not with you.  


I’ll be honest in that I’ve already found someone else.  When I told you I was pregnant, I got little more than a ho-hum response.  This is huge and exciting news for me, and I thought you’d be thrilled.  But I felt like just another number to you.  I’m not.  I am important and so is this baby I’m carrying.  So even though you and I have a history, this is where we part ways.


I plan to welcome this baby in the way my body was designed to do.  I trust my body and I trust the birthing process.  And I only want to be surrounded by people who are going to support me rather than simply run me through the mill.  You see, Doc, I checked up on your stats, and you have a 35% Cesarean rate.  That’s pretty high.  When I asked you about it, and pointed out that it’s well above the WHO recommended 10-15% and even higher than the national average, you said, “Some women just weren’t built for birthing babies.”  While some women may, indeed, need surgical intervention for the birthing process, over ⅓ certainly don’t.  And when I asked you about immediate skin-to-skin contact with my baby, you said, “We’ll see.”  When I told you I wanted to do this without any meds, you chuckled and told me, “That’s what they all say.”  


Like I said, it’s not you.  It really is me.  You’ve stayed the same.  You have your practices in place and have been doing things the same way for as long as I’ve known you.  But this is my first time giving birth, and I want to approach this birth from an empowered and educated standpoint, and I need my birth team to support me and my decisions.  I know you want what’s best for me, and what’s truly best for me is for me to transfer care to another provider.  


We’ve had a good run.  But my baby and me are leaving you.




Post by: Lindsay Mumma, DC



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