Doctor Doctor (Have Mercy on Me)

15 Jul

On Tuesday, the OB/GYN (otherwise known as the “baby doctor” in my house) took a gander up my va-jay-jay to check on the status of my Cervix of Doom.

I only call it the Cervix of Doom because the Cervix of Rainbows and Puppy Dogs just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

I haven’t had an “exam” by the doctor since my very first visit and I’m pretty sure that this is going to be the only one unless I want more down the line. I was excited, but not really for the appointment since (1) it takes a lot of friggin’ effort to prepare for that kind of exam, and (2) I was pretty sure I would cry if told that I’m locked up tight down there.

The preparation process for this type of appointment (aka: spread your legs and cough) is long and frightful. First of all, it takes me forever to shave my legs when I’m NOT pregnant, so add in a belly the size of Pluto and the balance of a drunken, one-legged ally cat and, as you’d imagine, it takes considerably longer.

And don’t even get me started on “the nether regions”. I mean, shit, I’m like Helen Keller trying to feel around down there. I have NO idea what it looks like anymore (I’m guessing some sort of overgrown jungle/70’s porno film) and the poor thing probably doesn’t look any better once I’m done trying to tame it. My strategy consists of just going full-throttle with the razor, hoping to hit anything shave-able. I’m sure now it’s looks like I’ve got some sort of weird patchy chemo hair “down there”.

Side Note: For those of you women who are going to suggest I get waxed down there: For shame. Like I’m not uncomfortable enough, people?! I feel no need to be subjected to that kind of pain unless there is going to be a baby out of my womb at the end of it. Kthnxbei.

By the morning of my appointment, I finally just decided that my doctor surely has seen things more fucked up than my butt-gina. If not, then she can thank me later for the story to tell her co-workers.

To thoroughly prepare for the appointment, I chugged my normal 50 gallons of liquid to only get shy bladder and squeeze out a few drops for their precious test (which sometimes just feels like a psychological test for pregnant woman: What won’t a pregnant woman do for her doctor? I guess preparing her vagina for surgery just to pee in a cup isn’t on that list…).

Due to my history of butt issues, I even skipped the morning coffee in fear of getting, for lack of a better phrase, the shits. You see, this week I not only got the va-jay-jay check, but also got the “Strep B swab”. Which is the doctor’s butt-friendly way of saying, “I’m going to shove a Q-tip up your ass now.”

And let me tell you, she wasn’t lying. I think I felt that Q-tip in my throat, she went so far in my bum hole.

Luckily the lack of coffee didn’t interfere with the swabbing. My nervous farting, however, had me convinced that the minute I put my feet in to the stirrups, I was going to fart directly in my doctor’s face.

I swear you have never seen a woman, or anyone for that matter, squeeze their ass cheeks together so tight while spreading their legs where the sun don’t shine. It took some finesse, ladies and gentlemen. But in the end (rim shot! [another rim shot for saying RIM shot!]), my doctor got to see up my vag and swab out my butt in peace.

You know, as much peace as one can have staring at my butt-gina.

The rest of the appointment, post poke and swab, made up for the intestinal issues. First of all, the doc told me that even though second-borns are usually bigger than their older siblings AND boys are usually bigger than girls, she predicts that Cletus will be about 8 pounds if I go full term. Since Bee was 7 pounds, 14 ounces, at least I feel like I can handle that again. You know, if by “handle” I mean “let my body be ripped in two by another human being in the not fun kind of way.”

Also, I’m already 1 meter dilated!! Or maybe 1 centimeter. I didn’t really pay that much attention. All I know is that my cervix is no longer being all closed off and distant. While I know I could stay 1 cm dilated for weeks, I’m hoping that walking my ass off, jumping on trampolines and shoving whatever I can find that is 10 cm up my hooey will get the process going soon.

Okay, I’m not really going to do any of that. Mostly because I’m lazy and not very ambitious. Not because it wouldn’t be a good idea.


Song title: Doctor Doctor (Have Mercy on Me) by Ray Stevens

2 Responses to “Doctor Doctor (Have Mercy on Me)”

  1. Mira July 15, 2010 at 7:27 am #

    I blindly scissored down there until I at least didn’t have a jungle but probably looked like I’d used a flobie to cut it. Or was some sort of maniacal serial hair cutter. I’m sure it looked peachy. But the alternative was impossible to ‘manage’ while trying to wipe around the gigantic belly after any sort of number 1 or 2. I did not, however, try a razor. Too scary. I like all my parts down there just like they are. Somehow scissors seemed less scary. And I got over the doctor’s opinion with the first pregnancy. And the gigantic hemorrhoids.

  2. Keegan July 15, 2010 at 9:01 am #

    One meter dilated! Have you lost any stools, tricycles, or sofa cushions lately? I think I know where they are. ;-)

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