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I visited the government hospital today.  I brought my camera in the spirit of adventure, but I never pulled it out.  I didn't want to act like a tourist in the midst of more serious issues - but at the same time - I was tired of everything being so serious and dramatic.

I was going to the government hospital to get my 32nd week report in the 33rd week.  There was a question as to whether my previous reports were acceptable - and so in order to erase this question, we going to get this report for insurance.

A private car took me, and English department colleague to translate, and an HR assistant.  The hospital was a big complex close to the school with a line of cars waiting to drop people off or pick them up.  We walked into the foyer and it smelled like poop.  We walked down the hallways and I felt like we were at a crowded mall.  A mall that had no shops.

Zeynep led the way in the woman's birth center.  A small crowded room of chairs, filled with not-pregrnant looking women and numbers posted.  Zeynep budged the line, speaking to several people and getting us to sit right down with a doctor within about 5 minutes.  Zeynep gave my information, the doctor asked me two questions, and sent me for an ultrasound.  The ultrasound was in the line right next door - which we skipped as well.  The woman zapped my stomach for the umpteenth time this year, reciting measurements, and sending me out.

Zeynep went to the doctor to get the report, but came out empty handed.  I pushed my translator to push her to get the report - but they wouldn't because I was in my 33rd week.  When weighing the consequences of losing one week versus four months of pay - I pushed some more - but Zeynep kept repeating, "We'll talk about it back at the office."

Frustrated, I gave in and we returned to the office.  When the HR head came, she translated the issue - it wasn't the 33rd week that was the issue, but it was the doctor who was insisting that I quit working immediately because the baby was underweight and my water level was low.

I was speechless on many accounts - this new shocking information from a government hospital doctor that saw me for less than five minutes, the fact that I was just whisked around like a product with no one informing me of what was happening - not being able to ask questions, and so on, the remaining issue of the missing report, the new issue of what to do now . ..

I wanted to cry even though I knew logically that it was probably an invalid measurement.  I think I just wanted to cry because I was tired of all these issues that leave me at the mercy of so many different people.  Where I am just the silent foreigner.

I left school early and checked in with my regular doctor.  All appeared normal to her.  My boss told me to take the day off tomorrow.

It's all making me tired but in the big picture, we're looking forward to the birth of a healthy boy.  My own doctor did another ultrasound and we printed a picture.  Tolga and I can't help grinning every time we see our son on the ultrasound.  Tolga decided now that he had has his forehead.

When we got back to the house, Tolga's mom, dad and brother all kissed the photograph. Our baby is being showered with love before he's even born and I'm thankful for such a world to be born into.  Tolga's dad said, "He has your forehead Tolga!"