Another flipping appointment
Wednesday, Aug. 9:
The Ob/Gyn office’s newish suite upstairs from the main office is so quiet and inviting after not sleeping last night that I wish I could just sink into the leather sofa in the dim waiting room and listen to the Celine Dion CD playing through the speakers. But just as I’m getting cozy and feel I might actually fall asleep, I get called in.
An ultrasound tech leads me to a room with a machine I haven’t seen before. It has a large keyboard-like control panel that’s something out of Star Trek. She tells me what I came to hear first thing: the baby’s head is down. The baby is in the right position! No breech baby for me! (Oh, please don’t flip back up . . . .)
Then she says the baby’s face looks squished. S/he’s running out of room. I don’t want my baby to have a squished face! (JP reminds me later the entire baby gets squished on the way out during birth.) Maybe the ultrasound tech was just trying to say the baby’s ugly.
She takes measurements of the baby’s head, femur, heart, etc. and estimates the baby at 6 pounds, 5 ounces.
Then I have a regular checkup with one of the doctors in the practice. From now on, I’ll have a vaginal exam every week. Yay. When the doctor sizes up my belly with a measuring tape, the metal end of the tape feels as though it’s going to cut the top of my, er, fold. She did this last time, too. None of the others go that far south when they’re measuring. I really hope she's not the one on duty when the Big Day comes -- she's nice, but there's something about her I don't trust.
On the way out, I see the elf doctor. She looks as tired as I feel. She tells me her 13-month-old son isn’t sleeping. She seems to foggily wander around the reception desk.
And I recognize my tired sleeplessness is only just beginning.
The Ob/Gyn office’s newish suite upstairs from the main office is so quiet and inviting after not sleeping last night that I wish I could just sink into the leather sofa in the dim waiting room and listen to the Celine Dion CD playing through the speakers. But just as I’m getting cozy and feel I might actually fall asleep, I get called in.
An ultrasound tech leads me to a room with a machine I haven’t seen before. It has a large keyboard-like control panel that’s something out of Star Trek. She tells me what I came to hear first thing: the baby’s head is down. The baby is in the right position! No breech baby for me! (Oh, please don’t flip back up . . . .)
Then she says the baby’s face looks squished. S/he’s running out of room. I don’t want my baby to have a squished face! (JP reminds me later the entire baby gets squished on the way out during birth.) Maybe the ultrasound tech was just trying to say the baby’s ugly.
She takes measurements of the baby’s head, femur, heart, etc. and estimates the baby at 6 pounds, 5 ounces.
Then I have a regular checkup with one of the doctors in the practice. From now on, I’ll have a vaginal exam every week. Yay. When the doctor sizes up my belly with a measuring tape, the metal end of the tape feels as though it’s going to cut the top of my, er, fold. She did this last time, too. None of the others go that far south when they’re measuring. I really hope she's not the one on duty when the Big Day comes -- she's nice, but there's something about her I don't trust.
On the way out, I see the elf doctor. She looks as tired as I feel. She tells me her 13-month-old son isn’t sleeping. She seems to foggily wander around the reception desk.
And I recognize my tired sleeplessness is only just beginning.
posted by Damselfly at 7:31 PM
3 Comments:
I'm laughing at the idea of a u/s tech trying to avoid telling you your kid is ugly. As if ultrasound technicians are all former swimsuit models.
Ha! I'm sure your baby's not ugly! I loved the weekly appointments at the end...I needed reassurance that everything was still okay.
LOL - that is funny, yes your baby will be squooshed, but i'm so sure it's not an UGLY baby !!
My waiting room played Norah Jones on loop.. very soothing, but after a while, I wished for something new ;)
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