Today at approximately 2:45 (do you like how I said “approximately” and then gave an exact time? Me either) I return to see one of my favorite doctors: my OB. He’s the one I saw when I was pregnant with Alex, the one who always “forgets” who The Daver is and asks me if it’s the same guy (he’s joking. I think), the one who always remembers that my grandfather was a doctor. He’s no-nonsense and I adore him.

He’s starkly different from my first OB, the only OB that my crappy HMO would let me see. He wasn’t a bad guy, he probably said all of 12 words to me the whole time I was pregnant with Ben, and that’s okay. I’ve never needed someone to really hold my hand or reassure me (until I spotted. Then that was ALL I needed), and it wasn’t his lack of vocal chords (I can only surmise) but the fact that he was an uber-Christian.

And me? I was unmarried. And unhappy.

I’ll say for him that he never, ever made any real remarks to me about it, save for my first appointment when he acknowledged that things must be really hard right now. And they were terribly hard.

No, what I’m still bitter about with my first OB was the dreaded forceps delivery I had. Which gave me 4th degree tearing–the highest level possible. At age 21. I’ve occasionally pestered Dave to tell me if having The Sex with me is like throwing a hotdog down a hallway, and he laughs, but secretly I worry.


I guess I’ll never know.

What I do know is this: I’m literally kicking myself for not asking The Daver (hotdog down hallway aside) to stay home and go with me to this appointment. Not because I’m all insecure and can’t do anything without him, but because it’s one of those Scary For Aunt Becky Appointments, a Landmark Appointment, if I may (and I always may).

Today is the Doppler/Heartbeat day.

And although I’m still sick as shit, still have the world’s worst soapy taste in my mouth constantly, still haven’t taken a proper poo in who knows how long, I’m full of nervous. In fact, I’m so ridiculously nervous that I ASKED MY MOTHER (the least sympathetic/reassuring person on the planet. You have to trust me on this) TO COME WITH ME. Oh yes, yes I did.

If I’m gonna get bad news, I’d rather have SOMEONE besides Alex there to help me out.


I’m a neurotic freak, I know.

27 thoughts on “The Dreaded O To The B

  1. I hate going to the OB alone too. I’m glad you like you current doctor. It’s a real drag to not connect with your babydoctor. I’m trying to stick with ladies as much as I can, if another male doctor tries to tell me what my vagina/uterus/boobies/etc. should feel I’m going to kick him in the nads.

  2. Dude, I feel your pain. I’ll be thinking of you at the approximate time, and saying a prayer for you. If I was there, I would go with you.


  3. I don’t blame you at all. When I was pregnant with C, I made Matt go to every single OB appointment with me. The only one I let him out of was when I had to have the rhogam shot in the ass. If he wasn’t able to go with me, I’m sure I would have pulled a bum off of the street to avoid going by myself.

    Best of luck today!

  4. if your mom is anything like my mom, the appointment will be the least of your worries.

    i hope everything goes well! and remember, the higher the better.

    and you have GOT to get some shit in your life. this backup can’t be good! ask about something for that today.

  5. and by “higher the better” i mean the heart beat.

    i can see how you could have thought that i was suggesting that you light some trees for the appointment.

    totally not my intention…

  6. I once asked a girl the following question, as a joke:

    “Is there any tread left on the tires? ‘Cause it looks like you get around!”

    I’ve never been slapped so hard in my life.

    True story.

  7. Oh honey, you so get it, don’t you? I wish I was there to hold your hand, I am saying a prayer for you and the little sausage right now.

  8. I’ll be thinking of you and hoping all goes well. I think it makes sense to have *someone* there with you, even though I believe you will receive only good news today.

    Even though you can’t see us, we’ll all be there with you. (I know, not great for holding hands or reassuring hugs, but hoping it helps just a little.)

  9. Looks like you are probably on your way right now. At least you should know that all of us here that read this are thinking of you and wishing you well!

  10. It’s terrifying. I’m glad you’ll have someone else with you. I realize already that I won’t be able to drag my DH to *every* appointment, then I think… well shit, what do I do? Need someone there!! It’s freakin scary.

  11. That is like in 5 minutes, *approximately*. I am gonna say some prayers for you RIGHT now!

    You had better post an update as SOON as you get home, MISSY! I truly hope everything is okay.Best. M

  12. Hopefully, your appointment went excellently, and you will be UPDATING us very soon as we tend to worry around here.

    Nothing makes me want to puke like the doppler. Or the u/s machine. Or the blood pressure cuff. OB issues much? Why, yes.

  13. Ahh, yes, 4th degree. I remember it well. Since it kept my son from having brain damage, though, I have forgiven that hack.

    I stick with the ladies when it comes to such issues, ones who have had children themselves, as they know where I’m coming from (literally and figuratively).

  14. Ahh, yes, 4th degree. I remember it well. Since it kept my son from having brain damage, though, I have forgiven that hack.

    I stick with the ladies when it comes to such sensitive issues, ones who have had children themselves, as they know where I’m coming from (literally and figuratively).

  15. Holy fucking TEAR Batman! You just made my girlie parts scream.

    Hot dog down a hallway is my favorite joke. I use it AT LEAST once a week to all my pregnant friends. They think I’m hilarious (not).

  16. That was one thing I wouldn’t budge on with Kent – I NEVER (okay once I did) went to an OB appointment without him. I figured the kid was half his and the least he could do was show up to see how he/she was faring.

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