Wednesday, 20. April 2011
Yesterday was one of the more exciting doctor visits – we got to do an ultrasound! It’s always fun when you get to see the little peep moving around and hanging out. However, it is officially official that Laef and I should not be allowed to attend doctor appointments together.
Especially when it comes to ultrasounds. Last time it was all “labia labia labia”. This time it was us waiting in the room for the doctor and Laef letting me know that he was holding in his farts. Of course he didn’t have to fart the whole way over, but once we were crammed in a tiny room, he had “lots of farts”. The doctor was taking forever to come in and eventually Laef just decided that he could blame me, because, well I’m pregnant. And no one would even assume it was the dude farting at this point.
So we’re giggling about farting and Laef is cringing at my belly button and how thick my linea nigra is and wondering why my feet are wet with sweat. He’s basically making me feel like a beautiful princess when in walks the doctor.
And, he’s cute. And young. And FUNNY.
I say this only because you never know what you’re going to get. Most of the appointments are boring. You weigh yourself (GAG), pee in a cup (I’m sort of a pro at how to do it without getting any on my hands), goo up your tummy, and ask dumb questions like, “Will I die if I sleep on my back?”
You then receive what is almost a side-eye because, as doctors, these people have probably dealt with a lot of crazy. Usually they reign in the side-eye and humor you with a really sweet response like, “Um, no, you dumb bitch.”
So, ANYWAY, I’ve seen a couple of different doctors in my journey. My regular doctor, the labia ultrasound tech, a different male doctor when my regular doctor was out of town, and lastly, McCutie yesterday. And, I’ve been waiting for one of them to look like they came off the set of Grey’s Anatomy.
McCutie walks in and Laef and I are both texting on our phones and giggling about lame shit and I see him double take. He must be thinking: “Laugh and text now you crazy kids. Because you won’t be laughing OR texting for at least two more years! BWHAHAHAHAHA.”
He introduces himself and then looks at Laef: “So you’re responsible for this???”
Love this guy already.
We get right to the ultrasound to make sure that my cervix and placenta are far enough apart from each other. At my last ultrasound they were too close together. This would mean C-section.
So he’s looking for both, but the baby’s head is blocking his view. We do get to see her face and her little mouth is opening and closing and McCutie says: “Aw. She’s drinking. Probably her own pee. Yummmm.”
Then he measures her head and says it’s registering on the small size. He quickly says “in the normal range, just in the lower percentile. She’s fine!”
Me: “Great. So our baby is a pee-drinking, tiny-brained runt. I hope you realize that I will obsess about this for two days.”
He quickly changes the subject and says those two dreaded words: “Transvaginal ultrasound“. He wants to be extra sure that the placenta and cervix are not hanging out together.
All I’m thinking about is the scene in Knocked Up where the doctor says, “You’re Next” to Seth Rogen while holding a giant rod. And then he says some other thing while looking at her vagina about her looking just like her sister.
I know. I need to act like a grown up. But two seconds ago Laef was farting and now this doctor expects the two of us to get through what will happen next.
I get naked from the waste down. Laef is becoming fidgety. I mean, when is the last time it was me, Laef, some other dude and my gyne all hanging out? The doctor comes back in, and I swear it was worse than it is in movies.
He pulls out a giant rod-like thing, puts a condom on it and covers it in lube. I can not even look at Laef. I am trying not to pee on the table.
Thankfully, we see what we need to see in a matter of seconds. It’s over. McCutie walks out and I look at Laef, and we bust up laughing. Like, what in the fuck is going on around here?
We are going to have to pull it together because one little trans-v ultrsound is NOTHING compared to what is about to go down. It’s actually not that big of a deal, but the truth is that anytime there are stirrups involved it’s just not a great time. And never did I imagine Laef would be next to me while I’m in said stirrups. No wonder hot passionate sex goes out the window after marriage. I mean, how am I supposed to maintain my hotness after my husband has seen me in stirrups?