Pregnancy, the Austrian way

When, on something of a whim, we booked this lovely holiday (contents thus far: slow food and long walks followed by longer naps), it meant having to rearrange our 16 week appointment so that we could be followed here. After all the worry that once again surfaced with our last bloodwork results, we were loath to just skip entirely a chance at reassurance, yet another confirmation that everything looks good and is progressing well for our little seedling. Our appointment with a local OB could not have gone better, even if there were some marked cultural shifts in, let's say the care regimen, from that to which we're accustomed in the UK.

We hauled ourselves out of bed at the crack of dawn (medical appointments start early here!) and made our way to the clinic; for the first time, I think the busyness and fatigue of the previous days' travel kept my mind from any nerves which usually precede such appointments.

The warm yet state-of-the-art atmosphere of the waiting area was quickly offset by the icy welcome we received from the receptionist, who immediately sized us up as the foreign interlopers we were and informed us that as it was a busy day, she could give no indication of the wait ahead. Even at 7 o'clock in the morning, the clinic was full; immediately noticeable though, was the absence of any dads. At our clinic appointments in England, it is the exception rather than the rule that a pregnant woman will attend such an appointment sans partner. While we waited to be called in, we saw eight patients come and go solo, while H was the only dude anywhere in sight. <cultural shift the first> Given their reputation for, erm...less than progressive gender roles in this country, I suppose it should be unsurprising, but it surprised the sensibilities of this couple nonetheless. I'm lucky who are we kidding, what I really mean is discerning in that my own Austrian is a clear exception to this trend. 

We didn't in the end have to wait long to be called in, and the doctor herself was as warm and welcoming as her receptionist was frosty. She spent a great deal of time going over our history, listening to any concerns, reassuring as that all looked well, and examining me and little seedling. <and here we encounter cultural shift the second> So yes, the Austrians can claim many cultural idiosyncrasies, but unnecessary modesty is not among them. These straightforward, efficient people see no reason to cover up where clinical bodily matters are concerned, and thus, wenn in Wein, as it were...Behind a pointless flimsy partition I stripped from the waist down (save my socks!) and progressed from doctor's office to exam room stirrups to ultrasound room without so much as a crappy paper, ass-hanging-out-the-back hospital gown. Wie natürlich!

Alright then; cervix looks good, blood pressure looks good. My weight is down (!) 2 kgs from my 13 week weigh-in, but since the little seedling is a week ahead in terms of its own weight gain we see who's taking priority here no worries. And finally we get as far as the u/s room. And again, all is clearly set up to accommodate doctor, pregnant lady patient, and...nope, no partner. I mean, obviously. Why ever would you want your husband/wife there with you?! H had to crunch in at the foot of the examining table and lean over the doctor as she wielded the wand. (In all the u/s rooms I've been to before, the table was set up with the u/s machinery one one side, and a chair for the hand-holding partner on the other.)  

Still, it was worth it; what the Austrians lack in gender equality they make up for in technology. (And isn't that just the sum of every stereotype ever produced about the Germanic peoples? No, I am not above gross cultural stereotyping, it seems.) We got a good 25 minutes of u/s time, as she toured us around every little inch and crevice of little seedling's ever-developing form. We got to see the lobes of the brain and an adorable little alien-esque spinal column and each individual rib. So cool. In fact, I'm pretty sure that what we got today was equivalent to the 'special' level II genetic scan that we'll have next month. She even thought she detected little seedling's sex, but again, the 19 week scan should confirm that, so I'm keeping schtum for now. 

Alles gut?, I nervously queried in my still-clumsy German. 'Alles sehr gut', she replied. 'Wunderbar! Eine schönes Baby'. A beautiful baby. We could not possibly have received a better Christmas gift.

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Despite my own weight loss, the little seedling continues unperturbed, and my baby belly is no longer just the overhang of middle age spread a real thing now. We waited until arriving here to shop for maternity stuff, because the products are both cheaper and better quality than in England. So, yesterday we took ourselves off to the shops accordingly. This experience was surreal in more ways than one. First, there is the now obvious fact that...uh, hello, I have an actual (yes, actually real) bump! Strange days indeed. I still can't quite wrap my head around it. 

However, yet more bizarre entertaining still was the exchange I had with the sales clerk when I asked to be directed to the maternity wear, using my available German vocabulary for 'pregnancy' and 'maternity'. She looked at me quizzically, until I mimed my expanding bulge, when recognition set in; 'ah', she said, 'you mean Umstandsmode!'. Uh, ok...I guess so? <cultural shift the third> The literal translation for this word, apparently the commonplace descriptor in German, is 'condition clothing'. And there we found it, all the cheap and expertly made European apparel a pregnant lady could want, under the department marked, yes, Condition Clothing.

I'd have choice words in response to that one, but my delicate, erm, condition prevents me from getting too worked up. Now now, dear, think of the baby.

Let's do the time warp again. Source