Despite this other version of myself that would happily refuse all technological and medical intervention, I did have the growth scan. At 26 weeks, the boy weighed in at a healthy, average, two pounds.
The events/experience/drama leading up to the scan made me think a lot about the choices I have made in this pregnancy.
While I am somewhat of a hippie at heart, I am not having this baby at home. I have chosen to work with an OB, rather than a midwife, and I have a doula on my team. Each of these women advises me from decidedly opposite ends of the spectrum, though both are friendly about working with/tolerating each other.
It's a lot harder for me to work with/tolerate the two sides inside my head.
On a positive note, in my ongoing pursuit of the natural, non-toxic nursery — without spending a fortune — we have managed to acquire for reasonable prices a shabby-chic used dresser and a positively clever crib/drawer unit combo — it's similar in style to a "captain's bed," and turns into a toddler bed with the removal of a few rails.
Both items were originally custom-built, both are really 100% solid wood. (Beware the phrase "solid wood construction." That means that parts of it are wood, and other parts are made of composite materials. In cribs, this is usually a support rod or panel under the mattress.)
We're also going to buy a potting bench, to use for the changing table. For the same price as what you can get at the baby-supplies emporiums, the potting bench has the same measurements, the same lip around the edge — most changing table cushions fit right in; and it is made of (yes, I will say it again) solid wood. No particleboard.
It's a difficult road that I trudge, me and my generally counter-to-the-mainstream ideals. Life could be a lot easier if I would just give in. But I am who I am. So I give in to that, and keep on trudging.