I had an OBGYN appointment today* and this happened.
I go to a high-risk OB clinic (supposedly the best in the state, which I am repeating to myself like a mantra these days. Best in the state. Best in the state. That means nothing can go wrong, yes? Wait, don’t answer that.) in the nearest smallish city. Because it’s a clinic, I see a different doctor each time, and I won’t really have any control over which one of them does my C-section when the time comes. Mostly I am OK with this.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been weirded out by this, but the more I think about it the less comfortable I am. Please tell me if I’ve gone off the deep end in feeling grumbly about this appointment.
The doctor (whom I’d never seen before) came in and asked me if I could feel the baby moving yet. I said no, and he said “Good! It’s too early. I was just asking that to test you. If you’d said yes I would have known you were making it up.” At the time I laughed, but now I’m just pissed off at the assumption (even in humor) that a pregnant woman’s perceptions of her own bodily sensations are up for mocking, questioning, and pre-emptively disbelieving.
He had me lie on the table, and then addressed my husband. “Are you responsible for this?” High-larious, dude.
He showed my husband how to use his hands to feel for my fundus, which was kind of cool, I must admit, and I tried to get him to show me once we got home but I couldn’t find it. Once they had found it, the doctor whipped out a pen and started drawing on my belly. (See Fig. 1.)
He outlined my uterus (and labeled it “uterus” in his inscrutable doctor’s handwriting) with a ballpoint pen. On my belly. During my appointment. While addressing only my husband.
Was I even fucking there?
I mean, seriously, does this sound OK to you? I know I have kind of a thin skin, and it’s true that Hormones are making me Feel Things lately, but the whole thing felt very dehumanizing to me. And if I’m not totally manufacturing my dudgeon, should I call the clinic?**
I think probably the best course of action is just to hope that (a) I don’t have to see that doctor again, and (b) his actual, you know, clinical skills far surpass his sense of humor.
* Today? Yesterday? Who can say when I’m blogging at 4:30 in the morning?
** And tell them what? “Excuse me, but the doctor drew on my belly and it made me uncomfortable?” Even I know that sounds loony.