I remember my first trip to the gyno. I was worried about what was in store for me. I had heard stories. Who was this doctor that was going to poke and prod and swab me?
I got over it, but not the cold instruments used to get me my test results.
I’ve always felt that a woman gyno can do a better job than a male one. Maybe it’s because we have the same parts and that she gets it, down there.
I loved my gyno and hoped she would be delivering my baby. Unfortunately, that dream burst into 1,000 pieces when she told me she no longer does OB work and that I would have to switch doctors.
So here I am with an OB she recommended. For the most part, I’ve been pleased with her save the few times I feel rushed to get out my laundry list of questions quickly so that she can go see an infinite number of other patients in an hour’s time.
But comfortable or not with my OB, the truth is, she may not be delivering my bug. No, it could be her or any of the other half-dozen female or male doctors who are part of the practice.
And I sorta forgot that.
So these next few weeks, starting at my next appointment, I will be seeing a doctor other than my own OB. And it just so happens that the only time available to see an available doctor that week to perform the Group B Strep test (which I imagine to be like a pap smear) and to discuss the results of my last (!) ultrasound before the birth, is a man.
So some guy other than my husband is going to be all up in my business.
I told Bub I have to get over this. After all, maybe this male dcotor is the one who delivers our baby.
I’m sure he’s fine and professional and whatever, but I just don’t like it.
Maybe they’ll let me do the test myself and hand it over to the OB after the fact?
And if I make good on that, then perhaps I can just handle the birth on my own, too?