The Power of a Black Woman’s Birth Plan
Making decisions about my prenatal care, on my own terms, allowed me to have the experience I wanted
I didn’t want any more ultrasounds. It wasn’t the cold jelly on my stomach skin or the awkward small talk with the sonographer while I sat scooched down, half-naked wearing a medium paper sheet when I clearly needed an extra-large that made me most anxious. It was the thought that I didn’t know. I didn’t know what the dozens of ultrasounds I had gotten over the years to diagnose my polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) and ultimately endometriosis had done to my body. I wasn’t convinced the answer was “nothing.” I didn’t have any proof — just my anxieties. I was convinced that there was a rare percentage of women who got more ultrasounds than they should and that studies on the safety of ultrasounds had not been done to account for us. I also didn’t know what happened to the women who sat here before me. What energies were lurking in this dim, cold room and in this convertible medical bed?
“Have you made a birth plan? Have you decided where you will give birth and who you will want in the room?” The thought that these were decisions I could make was a novel idea to me.
