So the two significant thing that I love (in a very non-homoerotic way) about Obi-wan-va-ja-ja is that first, he keeps the belly very comfortable. Now as I have said comfort is of supreme importance to the belly, and all who recognize and support this delivery of comfort are held in very, very high regard by me. I cannot explain the importance of a good doctor when marching through the journey of pregnancy. He, or she, with only a simple word can send you home with a relaxed, satisfied wife or with an emotional basket case that repeats phrases over and over; obsessing over the exact meaning of "wait and see". Up to now, doctor cool-daddy has been stellar, except for the "see you in 4 weeks" issue we have previously covered. But yesterday, I must admit he did me no favor. Now I get the whole hippocratic oath crap they are supposed to adhere to, but really? Can't you help a brother out?
First, let me just say it is all good news, everything right on schedule for 16 weeks, and the "bastard stick" had no trouble at all finding the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of the citter right away. The clench we feel at the sight of that damn Doppler was quickly laid to rest, but then my former best friend began to talk about more general issues such as the belly's 2 pound weight gain. Blah, blah, blah, he starts talking about "portion control". What? Are you kidding me? Have you met a pregnant woman before? He then asks her to make a fist as a representation of the size of portion she shoul be eating of carbs, you know, rice, pasta, potatoes, essentially all the things the belly craves on a non-stop basis. Then he starts talking about a deck of cards for the lean protein. Seriously, if I serve the belly a fist and a deck of cards somebody is going to get hurt. Bad.
Up 'till now he has been my ace-in-the-hole(no pun intended). Back when he was just the GYN part of his title, my LBN and him had a grand old time at the office visits, lots of laughter and bonhomie. I could even hear the merriment as I waited in the very comfortable area that is his waiting room when I took her to the check-ups. But now he transitioned to the OB part of the job and has seemed less concerned with her leaving the office with a smile and a giggle. Everything checked out okay with the blood work and the folic acid(more on that drama later) but still, why are are you getting in the way of the belly and the chow line?
The second issue is more of what he didn't say. A pause here if you are offended by what two consenting adults might do in the dark under the covers, don't read further....what my bestest friend has said at every appointment heretofore, is almost a throw-away statement at the end of his instructions. Amongst all the important items she must do, is the statement "normal sexual activity". Now from my perspective all the baby stuff is important, but that little nugget makes sure there is no impediment to what makes the pre-poppa feel like he has not just lit a firecracker that, despite the dire warning of the voices of authority, will blow his fingers off. Every visit up to now that I have been privileged to attend, he has added those three words. Yesterday he didn't. I'm trying to not get worked up about it, but, would it have been so hard? I thought we were in this together, but now I realize I am on my own. Pray for me.
By the way I figured something out tonight. When tHe belly says "I'm tired". What it really means is "you need to take over whatever it is I started doing and finish it, oh, and clean the crap up after you finish what I was doing cause that's what I would have done too.".
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Me-still 0
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