My doctor’s office is a bit weird. But I’m stuck with them, because nobody else would take me when we moved here because I was too far along. (Side note: seriously?! I was 34 weeks along when we moved here, and I contacted several doctor’s offices and hospitals and nobody would take me because I was too far along. Even after I explained that we’d just moved here. What are people supposed to do?! Just head to the E.R. when the time is right? Ridiculous.)
I originally chose this doctor based on my midwife’s recommendation and his very high success rate with VBACs. And then I met him. And he’s…well…bedside manner isn’t his strong suit. He’s just a little standoff-ish. But it turns out that’s the best personality of the entire practice.
Week before last, as I was checking out and making my next appointment, the other doctor in the practice (at least, I assume that’s who the old man in scrubs was…I hope, anyway) came up behind me, grabbed my belly, and said, “That’s a mighty big uterus for such a small girl!” I swear, he was down the hall and around the corner before I could recover enough to say, “Uh. Yeah. That’s how it felt last time, too.”
At my last appointment, which was New Year’s Eve, I was lucky enough to be a new nurse’s very first patient. I assume she was nervous. When she put me on the scale, she looked at my weight from last week, looked at the number on the scale, then looked at me, and said, “Well I guess YOU sure enjoyed the holidays!” Um. No. That’s four pounds of Reese’s and salt and vinegar chips, thank you very much. (To be clear, I’ve now gained 31 pounds this pregnancy. Terrible body image aside, I really don’t think 31 pounds justifies a comment like that!)
I can’t wait to add all the terribly awkward comments that will inevitably be said at my next two appointments (that’s it! two appointments!) and labor and delivery. Hopefully someone else is available to write them down, since I might be a bit busy, you know, laboring and delivering.