I Swear I’ll Deliver This Baby Myself
Filed under: Mental Strain for Mama, Things that get my gi all in a bunch, Woah Baby
On Friday I had another midwife appointment. I’m now going on 19 weeks pregnant. With each of my previous pregnancies, reaching 20 weeks was such a milestone. I could start counting down the weeks instead of up. Half way there. I went to my appointment in such a good mood.
It was quickly ruined.
My midwife, usually always so laid back and open to questions and conversation, was in a rush. She had a situation at the hospital. And what she did have to say to me, I didn’t like one bit.
All cases are reviewed with the supervising OB doctor. Like most doctors, he doesn’t want to take the conservative approach to my potentially high-risk pregnancy due to my being a gestational diabetic last time. So, instead of waiting until the typical 24-28 weeks, he wants me to do a 1-hour glucose-tolerance test this week, which means he’ll also want me to do one at the 24 and probably 28 week mark too.
Here’s what he does not realize, but I plan to make him realize when I go for my ultrasound on May 24th.
First, my Mom is a Type 1 Diabetic. I am well aware of what diabetes is and how it can potentially affect me and my baby. That’s why, since I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes with Sassy, my diet has drastically changed. I always ate well, but I eat ridiculously well since then. I don’t drink any sugared drinks at all. When I drink orange juice, I pour a tiny bit in a cup and water it down. I drink milk a half cup at a time due to the sugars in milk. I count carbs and combine carbohydrates with proteins. I only eat whole grain breads and pastas. I avoid sweets except in very limited amounts. I never stopped eating well because if the diabetes is going to come back and stay, it comes back typically, within five years. It’s been five years and my blood sugars are normal. I know this because I have a blood glucose monitor and since the day I found out I was expecting a “bonus” baby, I’ve been randomly testing my blood sugars. . . fasting ones, 1 hour post-breakfast, lunch and dinner. Each and every one has been normal, completely normal. In fact, they’ve been more normal than most average people.
I’ve also gained a total of 2 lbs. this entire pregnancy so far. Two. Clearly I’m eating well.
More-so than anyone, I know the risks because I’ve been through this before, and because I’ve been the daughter of a brittle diabetic for almost 32 years. I wouldn’t put myself or my baby at risk, but I really want this doctor to back off. At the first sign of trouble, I’d be happy to let them know I’m having a problem. I’m not going to be stupid about it. Like I said, I know the risks. . .
But stress does awful things to your body and from the minute I found out I was pregnant, I was scared. I don’t want to have gestational diabetes again. I don’t want the GD to turn into full blown diabetes. I see what my Mom has to deal with and the three month taste of it that I had, was plenty, thank you very much. So from the minute I found out I was expecting, I made a conscious decision that I would be careful, but that I wouldn’t stress myself out. Now that I know others are stressing, I’m stressing. And it ticks me off, because I felt like I was going through this pregnancy on my own terms and now I’m not.
I’ll take that 1-hour glucose tolerance test this week. But when it comes back normal and then I’m asked to do it again in a couple weeks, I’m going to stand firm and say “no.” I have a glucose monitor and I am a responsible, informed and educated adult. I chose a midwife because I didn’t want extra intervention. I honestly feel like firing them all and just delivering this baby by myself. All of this medical intervention is unnecessary and unwarranted. Maybe other pregnant women like doctors fussing over them and offering every test possible. I’m not that girl.
Take Another Little Piece of My Money. . . NOT
Lately I feel like the world has been aligned against me. It’s one ridiculous thing after another. First, it was my sister’s wedding and wedding gown debacle. That wasn’t really my own personal issue, but I took it personally. It has since been completely resolved and my Mom has received a check refunding the entire cost of the gown and alterations.
Then it was a ridiculous medical bill. Thankfully, my husband takes great pride in solving our medical bill dilemmas. I swear he once fought a baby ultrasound charge that didn’t get resolved officially until our daughter was like three. We’re nothing if not persistent.
After my insurance denied the use of alloderm in my leg (because they only approve it for breast surgery), we had to pay, out of pocket and up front on the day of the surgery, over $900 for a small piece of donor tissue for my leg. (I don’t understand why he couldn’t have just billed it like it was going in my boob. Lord knows if my insurance company had taken one look at my chest they would have approved that.) We thought the charges were finished, but that $900 some dollars didn’t include the surgeon’s fees to actually “place” the alloderm in my leg. The insurance paid for the screw removal, but they refused to pay for that, despite the fact that otherwise I would have spent my life kneeling on bone. My surgeon sent us a bill for $1800 last week. That’s his fee just for that small portion of the surgery. We felt like we had been punched in the gut.
You have to understand that for the past three years, we have been paying my medical bills for three surgeries, many MRI’s and bone scans, and months of physical therapy. It is not cheap. It has been a huge burden on our family. Mr. BBM called our insurance company. He asked them, if they had approved the charge, how much they would have actually paid the surgeon. The amount was $267.
$1800. . . $267. Not fair.
So, he called their office and asked to negotiate. Their first offer was pathetic. It was a $400 reduction, not enough. Their second offer was a lot better. . . $400. I dropped the check off last week and my medical bills (until I give birth, of course), are now paid for in full.
There was a collective sigh of relief through the BBM household.
Then I checked my business checking account for my Miche Bag business (I sell them and ship and they make fabulous Mother’s Day presents-just saying). A service I had refused had been charged to my account anyway. Despite the fact that I verbally and via email said I did not want to use their PCI compliance provider (you don’t have to understand PCI compliance-just know that it’s all BS and another way to skewer small business and if I ever see Barnie Frank and his posse, I will tell them so), nor did I want the $129 fee taken from my account.
They took it anyway.
I called them and had a fit. They eventually relented and told me they would refund the money. It didn’t happen when they said it would happen or nearly fast enough so I disputed the charge through my bank. My merchant company then notified me that they would be refusing to refund the money since I had disputed it. That makes a whole heck of a lot of sense.
So today I canceled my merchant account with them. And while I was in the process of doing so, the guy happened to mention, very quietly and quickly, a $295 early termination fee. Uh-uh, I don’t think so.
I told him to rewind a bit. I told him that I signed no such contract, that in fact my quote said, “no contract, no early termination fees and no commitment.” Otherwise, I wouldn’t have signed.” He talked back to me the way my 10-year old does sometimes, and I shut him down. “I’m emailing you the copy of my quote now. Do you have it?”
“Uh, yes, I’m going to need to put you on hold and review this,” he said.
“Yeah, you do that,” I told him, and then sat here swearing like a sailor while he blasted craptastic music in my ear. It took about two minutes for him to come back.
“So, we’re going to cancel your account and we will not be charging you a cancellation fee, as per your quote and contract,” he said.
I told him I needed an email with that in writing before I signed anything. I also told him I’d be needing my $129 refund. He confirmed that it was already processing.
If I wasn’t smart, if I didn’t have documentation and major will power to deal with these losers, I’d be out $424, which is roughly the commission I made on my last party. Many people do not like confrontation. I don’t either really. I just happen to be pretty good at it when I have to be. Can you imagine the number of merchants who get totally screwed over by these people on a daily basis because they just don’t want to fight? This world is full of people willing to take advantage of you and rip you off. Raising smart and respectful kids is not enough these days. You need to raise them to be savvy and intuitive and persistent too. Without the necessary skills, it is easy to see why so many people get duped, ripped off and flat-out taken advantage of. . .
I’m glad I’m not one of them.
How to Get Results When You Have a Consumer Complaint
Two weeks ago, my sister’s wedding was called off. That is her story to tell and not mine. A few days after this happened, she asked my Mom and me to go to the bridal shop to pick up her wedding gown. She didn’t want to do the final try-on or pick it up. We agreed. When we got there, the seamstress almost seemed annoyed that she wasn’t there to try on her gown; so I told her that we were picking it up because the wedding had been called off. Could she please just bag it up and get it ready to go? My Mom and I never unzipped the opaque bag to look at the gown, assuming everything would be ok. We were too distracted by the fact that my bridesmaid gown had been shipped to California instead of the East Coast. We got that straightened out and drove home.
Four days later, my Mom wanted to see if a shawl she had been knitting for my sister, would have matched the gown. She unzipped the gown bag and the dress had been hung inside it, backwards. That seemed odd, but my Mom didn’t anticipate any problems. She gently pulled the one side back to look at the front of the gown and she saw a huge gash in the center of the dress, right under the bust. She immediately called me in a panic and I told her to get off the phone with me and call the store. They asked her to bring the gown in, so a week ago, my Mom and I drove another hour back to the store to show them the gown.
When we arrived at the shop, one of the employees went to get the manager. When she finally emerged from the back of the store, I could tell things were not going to go well. She was scowling at us before she even approached us. My Mom explained what happened and showed her the gown. The manager did that quick head nod thing that people do when they want you to just hurry up and get on with it. She combined it with pursed lips and an evil glare. When my Mom finished talking, she took the gown, hung it on the seamstress’s rack in the back of the store and said, “You’ll need to talk to her. She’s the last person who touched the dress.”
My Mom looked at me and whispered, “passing the buck.” We knew things were going downhill quickly.
The seamstress came to the front of the store with the gown after we waited a good 15 minutes, all the while getting evil glares from the manager. She looked at the gown and then accused my Mom of intentionally cutting the gown with scissors. She wasn’t quiet about it. My Mom, an honest woman who thinks “sucks” is a bad word, was obviously in shock. She held up her hands and said, “No, no, no, I’m not accusing you of doing anything to the gown. I’m wondering if maybe, when it was being bagged up, if it got caught on a hanger or something and ripped?” The seamstress repeated her accusation and it was time for me to step in.
“I don’t think you understand,” I told her and the manager. “My Mom is not here because she wants her money back. She simply wants the gown either fixed (if it can be) or replaced. This dress is neither wearable or salable at this point. That’s what she wants so what’s it going to be?”
The seamstress stormed away with the dress mumbling that she would try to fix it. The manager continued to give us evil glares. At this point, I asked the manager, quietly and politely, if I could please have the name of her boss and phone number. I said I would also like a phone number for customer service at their corporate office. She screamed back at me, “What do you need my boss’s info for? I didn’t do anything!” and I politely told her that I needed that info because she was being extremely rude. She wrote down a first name for me, not her name, and handed me a piece of paper. She seemed extra annoyed when I told her I would also be needing her name.
About three minutes after the seamstress stormed away with the dress, she was back, with a sewing job that could have easily been duplicated by my 5-year old daughter, while blindfolded. My Mom, always polite and kind, actually thanked the seamstress for the hack job she had just done on the gown and zipped it up. I told my Mom we weren’t going to get anywhere with these women and mentioned loud enough for them to hear that they had screwed with the wrong person.
The hour drive home was brutal because I had steam coming out my ears and my Mom was on the verge of tears. Never, in her entire life, had anyone treated her so terribly. They treated her like a criminal and she was devastated. I told her I would fix it when I got home. I don’t get sad; I get mad (and even).
Within seconds of walking in my house, I was on the computer. I worked as a recruiter for five years. I can find the name, phone number and email address of anyone in the business world within minutes. And that’s just what I did. . .
Step 1: Find the highest person to contact possible. Don’t waste your time screaming at the local manager who is simply a parrot and possibly a jerk too. Look for a CEO, President or VP; top executives are key. They are the ones who make things happen. Websites like manta.com can help. Within seconds I had the name of the CEO. I also knew from an article I found that he took over the company from his parents, who started it. Even better. A quick browse through google revealed the bridal company’s root email system. They are frequently things like firstinitiallastname@company.com or something similar. I believe I had the CEO’s email in about three minutes flat.
Step 2: Craft a professional letter. If you start out with a rant, you’re a “crazy consumer” and they don’t want to hear it. It’s easy to dismiss you. If you start out with a compliment, you have them hooked. I started out by telling them that 12 years ago, I wore one of their bridal gowns and it was gorgeous. My sister loved mine so much that she wanted to wear a gown from that company too. I told the story about how we drove over an hour each way, many times, to try on gowns, choose a gown, and have alterations done. And then I explained my experience in vivid detail. A complaint letter is nothing if it doesn’t start out with honey, explain the complaint and then say what you want. I spelled it out: either replace the gown or fix it (this option didn’t seem possible after what happened). I also mentioned at the end of the letter that I had already filed a complaint with the Better Business Bureau. I mentioned that I have written a blog for over five years and then mentioned the many places where I have been syndicated and published over the years. I told them I’d be happy to share my experience with my readers across the state, the country and the world. I also provided a link where other negative reviews of that store had been posted. I told them I wasn’t alone and that they had a real problem in that store. And then I thanked them for their time.
Step 3: Find more executives to contact. I sent the letter within an hour of being back home, but the next morning, when I got home from work, I hadn’t heard from anyone yet, so I looked for more executives. You can find these names on business websites, in press releases on the company’s website and in news articles too. I emailed a ton of them but I pasted all their emails inside the BCC area. That way, with a header like “Dear Owners, Executives and Employees,” they have no idea how very far-reaching your email happen to be. It compels them to want to quiet you and fix the situation.
Within 15 minutes of sending the second email, I had a phone call from someone at corporate who oversees that store. It was approximately 16 hours after the original incident. My email had been forwarded to her from the CEO. The CEO wanted it taken care of asap, and had already involved many executives at the corporate office. After I accepted an apology on her behalf from the CEO and the entire company, she told me how she was going to fix things. She discussed how those two women are not good representatives of their company so therefore, they were going to be dealt with; and she also said she would replace the gown and have it shipped directly to my Mom’s house.
A few hours later, I had another phone call. This time, she offered a full refund for the gown and the alterations. This is unheard of in the bridal industry; but anything is possible when you have a valid consumer complaint and you stay professional about it.
Step 4: Follow up. Continue to follow up with the contacts you gain and are given until the problem is solved. This is crucial. If you start the process, you don’t want to stop until it is over. Last Friday, I emailed the woman and said my sister had thought about it and wanted the refund instead of the replaced gown. Monday morning, I followed up and told her she can expect a phone call from my Mom so that the refund can be processed. Today, I sent her another email.
Over the years, I have received everything from free meals from McDonald’s and Wendy’s (for forgetting to give me sauce or giving me the wrong food in the drive-thru), to free portrait packages at places where I was treated rudely and made to wait long past my appointment time with a temperamental baby. Everything is negotiable when you receive poor service, as long as you’re talking to the right people. The key is good investigation, persistence and professionalism.
Be Careful What You Sign Up For
Filed under: Board of Directors, Things that get my gi all in a bunch
Even though last year, I wanted to win in the election to be a member of the board at our local country club (which is more like a swimming club with a clubhouse), sometimes my three year term there feels like a life sentence. I go through these periods where I'm super hopeful and happy about things. I see changes happening and I feel like I've been part of making them happen. I have volunteered hours, days, and weeks of my life over there, doing everything from boring data entry, to decorating for Christmas, to renovating a sports bar with the help of only a handful of other people.
It is a thankless job; however, that's probably the wrong word for it. If it was a "job," I'd be getting paid. I don't. In fact, board members don't even get a free or reduced membership.
I once heard an interesting statistic. If someone likes something about your business, they are likely to tell no one or one other person at best. However, if they are unhappy, they are likely to tell 19 people, on average. And let me just put it right out there when I say that where I live, the negativity runs strong.
I spend the days leading up to board meetings feeling sick in my stomach. Our annual membership meeting is coming up in just a few weeks and if last year's was any indication, it's sure to be a day that will probably have me chewing up Tums the way I'd like to be chewing up cheeseballs. Last year's meeting felt surreal. Certain older individuals showed up wearing suits and ties, their Sunday best; while younger men and women showed up in sweatpants, straight from their kid's soccer games or swim meets. The older people thought that was disgraceful and disrespectful. I thought it was insane. I kept waiting for the cameras from one of those crazy TV shows to pop out somewhere; but I've since realized this is just reality over at the club.
Sometimes I swear that the only reason I was elected onto the board is because I was going directly to a wedding reception immediately following the meeting. I was super dressed up. I swear that got me the swing votes, despite my lack of wrinkles and gray hair. I'm sure those people are regretting that now. You know, me, that crazy younger board member who tries to make decisions based on whether or not it's actually profitable.
What has been the most frustrating part though, is that despite being a volunteer and spending much of my free time working on things for the club, planning events or taking care of memberships, there are many members who don't realize or care that the club's Facebook page is run entirely by me. And "yes," I will happily delete your negative comments on that page because I've had it up to here (points to the moon). If you don't have something nice to say, then don't say it. I am doing my best and unfortunately, I, and the rest of the board members and employees, can't always make every member happy. It's not possible. They also don't realize or care that those who are putting together the monthly newsletter and trying to maintain the website are also volunteers, volunteers with families, jobs and lives. I should also say that there are a handful of members who do nothing but put positive things on that page, and for those people, I am extremely thankful and grateful.
While some members of the board (former and current) view a board seat as a prestigious thing to have, the truth is that board members are treated like 2nd class citizens. We can't enjoy a simple dinner with our family without someone stopping by the table to complain about something (no matter how ridiculous it might be). In fact, I used to spend a lot more time over at the club, but the dirty looks and negativity has made me choose home more often than not. Mr. BBM is irritated that he can't have a conversation with his wife without being interrupted and my kids think I work there.
A couple months ago, someone cautioned me against making decisions that might not get me re-elected when my three year term is up. I laughed out loud. This is one board member who won't be running for election again. In fact, I am literally counting the days until I'm free.
Important Recalls? Really?
I don't wish to make light of the recalls that have been happening across the toy and baby care world lately. Ok, maybe I do wish to make light of it. It's just that when I read them, sometimes I have to laugh a bit. If it were my child, hurt by a faulty product (and truly the product's fault), I would definitely be upset. But aren't some of these recalls going a bit over the top?
I saw one today for a child's trike bike type thing. It said that the ignition key sticks out and can cause harm to a child if they fall into it or onto it, potentially causing genital bleeding. Can't the same thing be said of handle-bars or cross bars on bikes? One time when I was in college, I was riding my bike home from work. I decided to jump up the curb instead of getting off and placing my bike on the curb. What happened next was brutal and made me realize that crotch-shots, no matter if on a girl or a boy, are ridiculously painful. I slammed down onto the cross bar of my mountain bike and into a bush. It wasn't pretty. I couldn't sit right for a good week. Should my bike have been recalled? No, I was a naive idiot with an ego-inflated Lance Armstrong complex. Who did I think I was, trying to jump that curb on a busy Pittsburgh street? Is it really necessary to recall a bike with an ignition key that sticks out? I mean, hand a kid a Nerf ball and he's going to find a way to hurt himself with it. What if he tries to eat the thing and chokes on it? Should the Nerf ball be recalled? It's called childhood and that's what happens.
I don't know. To me, some of these recalls just seem silly. It would be like recalling toothpaste because it shouldn't be used as an eye make-up remover; screwdrivers because they fit into electric sockets; or Boppy pillows because they could be tripping hazards if left on the floor.
Personally, I think a lot of these recalls are brought about because of fly-off-the-handle parents who don't watch their kids well enough and they end up getting hurt because of a lack of parental supervision. We live in the blame-it-on-everyone-else society and these toy recalls are really no different. If my child had fallen into a protruding ignition key on a bike, I doubt I would be contacting the company and reporting a faulty product. I'd be chalking it up to childhood. Injuries and accidents are just a natural part of that world.
If you're looking for something to recall, how about that screw that broke into four pieces while in my tibia? Now that would be legit.
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