is it me, or is he just a jackass?
I had my weekly OB appointment this morning. Last week, he got ‘all up in my grill’ because I had put on 3 pounds in one week. After he chastised me for this he left the room to get something. I sat there for the 10 minutes it took him to ‘get something” agonizing over how I could possibly have put on 3 pounds in one week. When he came back in he started squeezing my calves. Then he looked at my chart. Then he looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.
“The gain is a result of all this swelling. So don’t worry about it.”
Okay thanks for freaking out about it initially, leaving me to brood and then coming back and acting like everything is fine again. Whatever.
So this morning I get on the scale and I have gained ½ of a pound and he says to me “See, it can be done!” I was like wtf? So I said “I know it can be done, you told me that last week’s gain was from the swelling.” He looks at my chart.
“Oh, so it was” he shrugs.
I hop up on the table so he can feel where Avery is (her head is now engaged – woohoo!) and listen to her heartbeat. When he lifts up my shirt he points to the couple of lines I have developed under my bellybutton.
“They’re getting worse, are they?” he asks as he pokes at my stretch marks.
Let’s just pause for a second and go back in time to a few weeks ago when I noticed the first stretch mark and proceeded to freak out and cry to my husband about my ruined body. Shallow, yes, but cut me some slack, I’m still adjusting to my new mommy body. My husband talked me out of my freak out and assured me that not only did it not bother him, it was hardly noticeable and he was so proud of me for carrying our baby and making her into a healthy little person and I should just shut up and grow up because I am a woman, not a 15 year old girl and he loves me.
I can honestly say that any worries I had about the stretch marks disappeared. I felt much better after that. Since then, I have developed a few more and they got a little longer. It looks like a tiny little animal was clawing at my skin under my bellybutton. Whatever, they’ll fade.
So when Dr. Jackass made the comment about them getting worse I just shrugged. I told him that I obsessively put cream all over my body in order to avoid them and nothing worked. I’m not happy about them (what woman would be?) but they are a small price to pay for having a baby.
“Did you get them anywhere else?” he asked pointing to my thighs. When I told him no, he said something along the lines of “Well, it could be worse. At least you can cover your stomach, but if you got them on your thighs like a lot of women do you wouldn’t be able to wear shorts anymore without being embarrassed.” Then he made some remark about how this is why men could never have babies because it would devastate them to much to have these things happen to their bodies.
So I asked him how the hell he thinks women feel about it. Does he think that we are happy to sacrifice so much? To have to look at celebrity magazines and see airbrushed pictures of women who have had babies but don’t look like they have? To worry about miscarriage? To worry about labour? To go through the pain and recovery of labour?
You know, I’m starting to think this guy is a bit of a misogynist. I really do not want him anywhere near me when I am having my baby. Oh yeah, then he actually made fun of my swollen ankles. “Nice tree trunks!” he said.
Its 35 degrees with the fucking humidex outside today in this shithole of a province. It’s fucking bad enough that I have to listen to the idiots who love this weather talk about how great it is while I sweat my tits off. I am really not interested in any comments about my swollen ankles. I can’t feel my fucking feet at the end of the day. I’m aware that I have cankles. FUCK OFF.
And if I hear one more woman say to me “Ooh, looks like you’re ready to go any day now” I am going to claw her eyes out.
When I look in the mirror at this body that is keeping my daughter healthy and safe and warm, it is pretty sad that the first thing I see is the damage that has been done to it rather than how amazing it is and how lucky I am to be able to have a baby.
This society is fucked. Pregnant women should have god damn shrines built for them.
“The gain is a result of all this swelling. So don’t worry about it.”
Okay thanks for freaking out about it initially, leaving me to brood and then coming back and acting like everything is fine again. Whatever.
So this morning I get on the scale and I have gained ½ of a pound and he says to me “See, it can be done!” I was like wtf? So I said “I know it can be done, you told me that last week’s gain was from the swelling.” He looks at my chart.
“Oh, so it was” he shrugs.
I hop up on the table so he can feel where Avery is (her head is now engaged – woohoo!) and listen to her heartbeat. When he lifts up my shirt he points to the couple of lines I have developed under my bellybutton.
“They’re getting worse, are they?” he asks as he pokes at my stretch marks.
Let’s just pause for a second and go back in time to a few weeks ago when I noticed the first stretch mark and proceeded to freak out and cry to my husband about my ruined body. Shallow, yes, but cut me some slack, I’m still adjusting to my new mommy body. My husband talked me out of my freak out and assured me that not only did it not bother him, it was hardly noticeable and he was so proud of me for carrying our baby and making her into a healthy little person and I should just shut up and grow up because I am a woman, not a 15 year old girl and he loves me.
I can honestly say that any worries I had about the stretch marks disappeared. I felt much better after that. Since then, I have developed a few more and they got a little longer. It looks like a tiny little animal was clawing at my skin under my bellybutton. Whatever, they’ll fade.
So when Dr. Jackass made the comment about them getting worse I just shrugged. I told him that I obsessively put cream all over my body in order to avoid them and nothing worked. I’m not happy about them (what woman would be?) but they are a small price to pay for having a baby.
“Did you get them anywhere else?” he asked pointing to my thighs. When I told him no, he said something along the lines of “Well, it could be worse. At least you can cover your stomach, but if you got them on your thighs like a lot of women do you wouldn’t be able to wear shorts anymore without being embarrassed.” Then he made some remark about how this is why men could never have babies because it would devastate them to much to have these things happen to their bodies.
So I asked him how the hell he thinks women feel about it. Does he think that we are happy to sacrifice so much? To have to look at celebrity magazines and see airbrushed pictures of women who have had babies but don’t look like they have? To worry about miscarriage? To worry about labour? To go through the pain and recovery of labour?
You know, I’m starting to think this guy is a bit of a misogynist. I really do not want him anywhere near me when I am having my baby. Oh yeah, then he actually made fun of my swollen ankles. “Nice tree trunks!” he said.
Its 35 degrees with the fucking humidex outside today in this shithole of a province. It’s fucking bad enough that I have to listen to the idiots who love this weather talk about how great it is while I sweat my tits off. I am really not interested in any comments about my swollen ankles. I can’t feel my fucking feet at the end of the day. I’m aware that I have cankles. FUCK OFF.
And if I hear one more woman say to me “Ooh, looks like you’re ready to go any day now” I am going to claw her eyes out.
When I look in the mirror at this body that is keeping my daughter healthy and safe and warm, it is pretty sad that the first thing I see is the damage that has been done to it rather than how amazing it is and how lucky I am to be able to have a baby.
This society is fucked. Pregnant women should have god damn shrines built for them.
Labels: Pregnancy
posted by vegan mum at 1:43 PM
1 Comments:
Goddamn. I woulda gotten rid of that fucking doctor long ago. My theory is if you havent squeezed a baby out of your vagina or had your abdomen carved open like a fucking thanksgiving turkey, you have no right to be my baby doctor. What a fucking asshat.
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