Doesn’t ANYONE Want to See My Vagina?

I had no idea how difficult it would be to find an OB/GYN. I’m not talking about one I like. I’m talking about one that takes my insurance and is accepting new patients. So far, they either don’t take insurance at all, they aren’t accepting new patients, they don’t do deliveries anymore, they’ve moved out of the city or in the case of one doctor someone recommended to me, they are currently in the middle of a messy lawsuit. Oy.

As you may remember, there was a doctor who actually takes my insurance, who is affiliated with the fertility clinic I’ve been going to, and who specializes in high risk pregnancies. He was my holy grail. Wait, no. He was more like my holy speculum.

Anyway, allegedly, he was reviewing my case to see if he would take me on as a new patient. If they requested I also write an entrance essay, it wouldn’t have shocked me in the least. “What My Uterus Did This Summer” by Jay.

After waiting a little over a week, I called his office back and got a receptionist on the phone. After explaining that I had called twice already but hadn’t heard back, I added, “I feel like I’m single again and I’m sitting by the phone waiting for 'him' to call.” Luckily, she laughed and said, “Ok, for that – you have my undivided attention.” She confided in me that he’s actually been on vacation (not sure why that would be a secret exactly but whatever) and she’ll go ahead and schedule an appointment. I'll see him in a few weeks.

Although I’m thrilled to have “got in”, I can’t help but be slightly annoyed that I had to be Shecky Green in order to get someone to pay attention to my va-jay-jay. My private area doesn’t need an opening act. It needs love and attention!

And on that note, in one of my many, “You’re Pregnant and Don’t Know What The F*ck To Do” books, on the subject of oral sex, they advised, “If your partner performs oral sex on you, be sure they do not blow air into the vagina.” Beg your pardon? I didn’t want that when I wasn’t pregnant. Why in the holy hell would I be interested in that now? Seriously – that doesn’t stimulate anything but my need to punch my partner. Furthermore, it’s a vagina. Not a balloon for crying out loud.

What’s super scary is you know this must have happened enough times that someone needed to put this in the book. I see the writers sitting around going, “We’ve REALLY got to make sure we address that blowing air in the vagina thing. It’s become such an epidemic!” And all the others nod in agreement. “Oh yes, we should have a whole chapter on that!”

Also, continuing my “what food, animal or mineral” is the baby this week, the baby is currently the size of a blueberry. Maybe it’s just me but this immediately makes me think of WILLY WONKA AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY when Sam Beauregarde (the father of Violet Beauregarde) says, “Violet! You're turning violet, Violet!” after she eats the incomplete three-course meal gum and subsequently starts swelling up to the size of a Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon. As Sam is escorted to the juicing room, he says, “I've got a blueberry for a daughter...” Any which way, at least it’s not the size of an oompa loompa or a snozberry. Who’s ever heard of a snozberry???

This Friday, we have another appointment with my reproductive endocrinologist at the clinic to see the baby again and actually hear the heartbeat for the first time. I’m so excited and of course, nervous. I am hoping with all my heart and soul that everything looks good, that the baby is healthy and the heart beat is nothing short of fabulous. I’ll keep you posted. For now though, I’m just so happy someone will be checking things out without me having to do a stand-up routine and especially without blowing any air up my wah-hoo.