Skip to main content

Something(s) good out of something dreaded

It is hard to believe another year has passed since the day that probably 99 percent of the women out there dread. Oh, how I loathe my annual exam, but I am happy to report that two things happened to make it not so awful this year.

Through the apparently thin walls, I could hear the heartbeat of an unborn baby.

I have no idea what that instrument is called (the one that allows you to hear the heartbeat of an in-utero baby), but as I heard that sound from so long ago, my eyes immediately watered. The memories of that whoosh-whoosh-whoosh noise, from over eight years ago, came flooding back, and I was immediately reminded of the first time I heard Jordan's heart beating from inside by stomach. At the time, I had no idea what the sound was, and I had to ask the nurse if that was my baby's heartbeat. She said yes, and my eyes welled with tears.

I also remember the next time, when it took awhile for the instrument to pick up Jordan's heartbeat. I was supposed to get a sonogram that day, and for a moment, I was utterly panic-stricken, thinking my baby was not okay. I remember Brian had a pretty concerned look on his face. But then came the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sound, the tears started flowing, and I thanked God.

Yesterday, I tried to imagine how the pregnant woman in the room next to me was feeling, assuming she was pretty happy. Maybe relieved. Perhaps even scared. But, man, it really is something to hear. (And, no, it did not make me want to have another child.)

The other thing that made me smile?

The doctor asked me how I stayed so thin.

Unfortunately, my weight was up a few pounds since last year, and I told the doc (technically, a CNM) I would like to drop a couple (enough to put me safely back on the other side of the 150 notch). The doctor then said she had no idea where I would lose that weight from. I contemplated jumping up and hugging her, but, considering the (ahem) position I was in, I opted not to. Regardless, even though I am fairly comfortable with my body (those two pounds not withstanding), it was nice to hear her say that.

Of course this trip did not end without a minor irritation, in the form of a specialist copay. Last year, I ranted about my having to pay a $25 copay instead of a $15 one, because apparently my annual exam was considered a specialist visit. I disagreed that there was anything special about my visit, and one of my readers disagreed with me. Ultimately, I ended up with a $10 refund a few months later, which I assumed was because I was right.

Well, we all know what happens when you assume.

I guess I will just have to wait to see if I get a refund this year. After all, I was seeing a certified nurse mid-wife, not a gynecologist, so one would assume she would be considered less of a specialist than a gynecologist.

Okay, I am done assuming now.


LaLa said…
I don't think any woman looks forward to her annual exam. At least not any NORMAL woman. Good that you found that silver lining. Hope the copay works out.
Facie said…
LaLa: Somehow I just know that there has to be a woman or three who really don't mind what I consider torture. Maybe the overstressed parent who knows she is getting away from the kids for an hour?

I keep meaning to call about the copay thing, but what that person said last time did not seem to be true, so why bother.

Popular posts from this blog


Lately, I have had some anxiety. I have been waking up within an hour of when I fall asleep (partially because my bladder has its own timetable). And then I lie awake, worrying about various things. Mostly I worry that I am failing as a parent. I worry that I allow my child to be disrespectful to me more than she should. I worry that I am not forcing my shy child to do more things. And I worry that the few things I am pushing her to do will make her resent me. I worry that she gets stressed about school. I worry that she is bothered because she does not have a lot of friends. I worry because I don't know why that is.

I worry that we will be stuck in our house in our bad school district, a place where we would not send our child to high school when she graduates in two years (two years!). Then I worry that our somewhat introverted child will have to go to cyber school. Because there is just no way that we could afford to send her to Catholic high school, for which tuition is curren…

Why I am an "Other"

Last month while I was getting my driver's license picture taken, I tried to change my political party affiliation. For whatever reason, my choices were Democrat, Republican, Other, and None. But first, how I got there.

I registered as a Democrat when I first registered to vote, just before the '92 election. At that time, I was "kind of" liberal (for growing up in a somewhat rural area in western PA), and pretty much all of my relatives were registered that way, so it made sense. I was not really into politics at that young age, however.

As I got into my late 20s, I started to realize I was becoming more conservative, so a few years later, when it was time to renew my driver's license, I changed to Republican. I still remember the day at work when I told my coworker Anne that I was really a Republican. She told me she had known it for years. During the 2008 election, I was on board with John McCain running for president, mostly because I thought he was a good pe…

My first and hopefully my last biposy (or I would rather be at the beach)

This past Monday afternoon I had my biopsy. Up until Sunday night, I was not worried. In fact, I was never really concerned about having cancer; it was the needle part that bothered me. As it turns out, there is more than a needle; there is an actual incision. So it was not surprising that I only got a few hours of sleep. But on a positive note, I cruised right down the Parkway that morning, being the Monday before the 4th, so there was that.

I got there at the prescribed 30 minutes ahead of time; in fact, it was probably close to 35 minutes! I had to wait about 10 minutes, during which I could feel my seat vibrate (still not sure about that; I was tired but I don't think I was imaging it). Then I went back, changed, and waited in the "gowned waiting area" for no more than 5 minutes. Not even enough time to find out whose twins Jennifer Garner was pregnant with! WARNING: What follows will be detailed, though not too graphic.

Then I went back to a room, where someone as…