My little olive turns 11 weeks old tomorrow. 🙂
We had our first OB appt yesterday and it was SOMETHING.
I was very nervous/anxious about going and I don’t really know why. I wasn’t worried about the baby – I was actually excited about the ultrasound. . . I think it was just meeting this new doctor for the first time and having just left my RE (who I just really clicked with). I knew, deep down, that I wasn’t going to click with this doc the way I had my last one. Maybe I was setting myself up, but my RE was like the most fun doctor I’ve ever had so I just kind of knew that wasn’t typical. My husband and I actually used to look forward to appointments with my RE because of who he was and how he was with us. Anyway, wah, I’ll get over it.
Sooooo, the new doctor is nice. He has been a doctor for 39 years so I’m quite confident he knows his stuff. He just . . .hmmmm. He’s personable enough – friendly, but formal – idk. He’s very factual and straightforward where my RE had a lot of personality. He joked a lot. He got my sense of humor. Idk. Anyway, all of this is not the point. Nice enough guy, I just didn’t feel any type of connection like I wanted to. For instance, as he was listening to me breathe (through my back) with the stethoscope, he said, “Hmmm, ok, so I see you have quit smoking . . .” and I replied, “Oh, yes,” nervous laugh, “…Years ago. Should have never started . . .” To which he replied, “Oh! You really were a smoker? I was just trying to be light hearted.” But it came out all wrong, it was like trying to joke with a computer – the vocal inflection, everything was just off and a little awkward. Poor guy. And then I felt like an idiot for giving my confession when he was being funny as he was listening to my breathing.
You see, there was about a two year time frame (2007-2009) when I smoked. I hate typing that, I hate that it happened. Oh well, it’s the truth so there it is. And the funny thing is, when I was completing the paperwork from the OB prior to my appt – there was the question on if you had ever smoked on the application and I wrote the truth and my husband debated that. He is one who thinks it just causes more questions and creates unnecessary problems to tell them about health things in the past that don’t affect you or aren’t true now. I am more of a tell the truth about everything kind of girl. I have no problem admitting to my doctor something I did in the past, like smoking (ok, I am ashamed of it, but I can do it because it’s no longer who I am). So, I did write that I smoked years ago and have quit (4-5 years now) and I immediately perked up when he joked about it because I assumed he had read my chart and was making that comment as he was listening to my lungs because it reminded him. But, alas. It was just him trying to be funny.
Ok, now that we are past that, let’s back up to the beginning of my appointment when the PA takes us into the room. As I sit down, she smiles big and asks hopefully, “So is this your first baby?” To which I respond, “No. . . Well, it’s our first but my second.” Smile disappears. Awkward silence. Somehow she made me feel like it wasn’t as exciting now since I’ve already done this before. And somehow I’ve just confessed to the nurse that I have a had another child without someone who is not my husband (far prior to knowing him, of course). I don’t have time and she isn’t interested in me explaining that away. This day was just not for me.
Next, doctor comes in and introduces himself before I get into the gown so we can meet in clothes. I appreciate that. We had some questions about all the different screening tests they do now. I ask his opinion on them. He explains each one in great detail but offers no opinion. Just keeps repeating we are not obligated to have any of them done, but he IS obligated to make us aware and offer them. Ok, fine. We’ll decide.
When he leaves he points to the gown and sheet that I am supposed to wear – gown open to the front like a blouse, sheet over my legs, open in the back. Take everything off underneath. Fine. Great. I get undressed. I put on the
gown halfshirt bolero. WHAT?! This can’t be right. There I am, standing in front of my husband in all my glory and this “gown” they have given me is literally a short little bolero. It reaches just to my belly button. NO LONGER. My butt, legs, everything exposed to the world. This is the outfit I get?! What happened to real gowns? I was laughing hysterically to my husband telling him this was a bolero and not a gown when he says, “It’s like one of those really short Spanish jackets. . . ” Like a BOLERO? hahaha Yes, honey. That’s what I said. He’s adorable. I should be relieved he doesn’t know what a bolero is. I can only imagine the fashion wars that go on in a house where the husband is just as fluent in fashion as the wife. lol
Ok, so here I am bolero and butt to the world. This stupid little jacket has five ties – three on the left side and two on the right – so that it takes me a few minutes to figure out what connects where. I start panicking that the doctor is going to come in and I will be sitting there with my little shrug wide open so I just start tying them as fast as I can. Whatever ties it shut, that’s what I do. Just as I finish, in he comes. His PA follows.
All four of us are now in this tiny room with me and my great outfit. The doctor says something something then asks me to lie down and he picks up each of my feet manually and places them in the stirrups. That was a little awkward. Ok, anyway. I’m lying there and he leans over me and unties my ties and just lets the little jacket fly open and starts my breast exam with my husband and the PA watching. He’s talking but no one is listening because it’s just so awkward. He’s pressing really hard and it hurts so bad I have to start holding my breath – my chest is so sore right now!! Why doesn’t he know that?! My grimaces don’t seem to affect him. He’s not rough by any means, but he was definitely using a lot of pressure. Apparently all is well because he didn’t say anything when he was done.
Thankfully the dumb bolero ties up much faster the second time. Next we get to the good part – the ultrasound. We got to see the baby – and it waved it’s little arm at us!!! TWICE!!! Oh my gosh…if you look at the picture you can see it’s right arm in the background by it’s face – that arm bobbed up and down a few times and it just melted my heart. I teared up immediately. My husband was SO excited – “Look! It’s waving! It’s waving at us!” I think he actually called the baby “he” but I refuse to acknowledge that. 🙂
It was one of the most magical moments of my entire life. I had this huge stupid grin on my face and I could not stop smiling. Just WOW, God. Thank you for loving me so much to show me that.
So, we are 11 weeks tomorrow. We have an appointment with a specialist for some of the Downs and other testing in about 10 days but we don’t see my OB again until July 9 (14w4d). So this means we are good to go!! Sadly, I was so stunned about the waving fiasco that I could not compose myself enough to remember that I did have some actual questions. When he asked me, I just kept smiling and my mind went blank as a pageant contestant’s. “No, I said, I don’t think that I do.” Lovely. Truly, though, I have already asked my RE the questions, who referred me to ask the OB. Last week, I had a consult with the OB nurse and remembered to ask her (I had them written down) and she also referred me to ask the OB. Now, OB asks me: I’ve got nothing. How many times can a lady be expected to remember her questions? Three I guess.
So, I called today and left a voice mail for the nurse and am hopeful I will get them answered. Just questions about being able to weight lift and simple stuff.
NOW, back to real life.
When I left the OB’s office yesterday, they gave me a print out “summary” of the day’s visit. You know what it said on the first page?? That the purpose of my appointment was “HIGH RISK DUE TO ELDERLY MULTIGRAVIDA“. It was bold. And CAPS. Was that really necessary? First of all, no one told me I was considered high risk. I actually asked the nurse last week if I was considered high risk because I would be over age 35 when I delivered. No, she said, you aren’t immediately at risk because you turn 35 and especially because you are already pregnant and you’re only 34. Huh? What’s this “only 34” business if 35 is considered elderly? What an insult. And, plus, now I don’t think the nurse knows what she’s talking about.
Ok, so obviously I’ve googled this and it means I have had more than one baby (this is my second) and I will be delivering over age 35, which makes me high risk . . . WHICH IS WHAT I ASKED ABOUT. Anyway, annoying. I laughed at the time with my husband because they called me elderly and I’m in my early thirties. I know, I know, it’s because pregnancy-wise I am on the older end of the spectrum. I know. Still – rude.
My favorite thing was when I flipped over the page, already kind of annoyed with the shameful bolero I had to wear and then faced with the elderly comment all in bold caps and I see this addition to my chart listed in CAPS next to my current height and weight: FORMER SMOKER.
Oh just perfect. I knew I wasn’t going to like you people.