Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Six Weeks, continued

Spud has officially cracked.

Last night he giggled like a school girl out of exhaustion. I don't know what he's so exhausted about, I'm the one with the baby all day and night! But it helped to boost my self-confidence about my budding stand-up career (yeah right) because everything I said, he laughed like I've never heard before! At one point, he was trying to suppress his laughter so much that he was shaking, rocking the bed and about to wake up the sleeping Tot.

He rolled off of the bed and lay on the floor, tears in his eyes, shaking with laughter. And I'm not even sure what it was about! But every time he'd think it was under control, he'd start up again!

This went on for about an hour....

.................................................................................................................

6 week checkup

Well, it was disappointing, to say the least.

I made sure to read all the articles about what to expect at your six week post-partum visit. I expected an internal exam and for Dr. Blah Blah to make sure all my organs were back to normal after being shoved out of place for nine months. And I thought he would at least ask me how I was handling being a new mother and if I was experiencing any baby blues (I am, but it's manageable, really). I also thought he would say it was safe to get back to some normal things (exercising, sex, etc.) and let me know how my stitches were healing. I thought he might explain some of the thigns that happened during the birth, like how he forced me to have medical interventions and treated me like a slab of meat on a conveyor belt!

Nothing.

Actually, I'm wrong. I got a lot of explanations about how he pays $60,000-100,000 a year in malpractice insurance so he's wary of people who want to walk the halls during labor because they might want to do drugs during labor. That's another rant about the drug companies later...

But I didn't get a go-ahead from him about anything. I didn't get a reassuring pat on the back as I sat in the exam room and cried about mourning my delivery. He said, "This is going to sound cold, but you have a healthy baby in the end."

He smirked at me too.

That mo-fo smirked at me when I told him I was bottle-feeding. I had just finished crying and telling him how he didn't respect my wishes to do everything natural. And apparently, the fact that I was bottle-feeding and therefore "un-natural" amused him, so he smirked. I lied and made it seem like breast-feeding didn't work out for me and Mckenna, which is true in some sense. I just didn't give it the best try that I could have.

He replied, "See? Where would you be without modern bottles (and formula)? Your baby would starve!" in his country-bumpkin-doctor-twang.

I replied, "Well, no, that's why they had wet-nurses back in the day!" and put my feet in the stirrups.


As I left the office, I made sure there wasn't anything else he needed to tell me (like.. uh... have a nice life??) There wasn't. Just to go to the front desk and get your bill straightened out. So I went to the desk, flopped my chart onto it, and asked for a copy of my records because, "I need to be moving on. Away. From my doctor. Now."
.................................................................................................................

Meanwhile, yes, my baby is healthy. The tot has chubby chipmunk cheeks and is starting to smile when I sing, "Good Mornin'" from Singing in the Rain to her every morning. She doesn't sleep through the night, or anything, but I wouldn't expect her to do that yet. She still needs a lot of food and I'm ok with that.

It's the getting back to sleep part that I'm starting to have troubles with.... More on sleep training later....

No comments:

Post a Comment