Clickin' my heels. . .

'cause Dorothy knew what she was talking about. I wanna go home, too.

I went to my first OB appointment with the east coast version of a doctor's office.

I won't go into the whole story, but for several reasons I kept putting off the first appointment. When I finally did call the office, they had to take my name and call me back after they got permission from the doctor to see me because "you are already almost 5 months pregnant and have not had prenatal care." This, despite the fact that I told her three times I *did* see my OB in Phoenix for 2 visits prior to moving to New York. Apparently Arizona OBs aren't up to snuff and visits with them just don't count. I eventually get the call that the doctor has "agreed to see you, even though you didn't have prenatal care. But could you call your old OB and get the records transferred." Oh, you mean the records for the prenatal care I received with their office? Sure thing. (And where did she get the "almost 5 months pregnant" thing? Pregnancy must be 11 months long because I sure had a whole heckofalot left when I initially talked to her.)

So today was the appointment. At 8:30 in the morning, I might add. I asked repeatedly for an appointment that might accommodate my husband's schedule a little better to avoid taking my two youngest kids with me, but that would have pushed my initial visit back another week or two and they obviously didn't want to do that since I'm already 24 months pregnant and have not received prenatal care. My older 2 leave for school at 8:25 on the bus. I had the littles in car seats, car started, and big kids waiting with us at the curb for the bus. They were off and then I was off.

Front desk staff was nice enough, if a little slow. Normally slow is no big deal - but with 2 littles its feeling kind of chaotic. Then weight and height (I'm magically 2 inches shorter than I have been my whole life. Surely I can't be the first to tell them their measuring methods are inaccurate.) Then pee sample in small bathroom with large stroller and crying baby. I only had the teeniest, tiniest bit of pee in me (forgot to hold it for this part) and I missed the cup with half of it. Ooops. The nurse apologizes because she has to do a pregnancy test . . . "not that I don't believe you, but. . .you know." No, actually, I don't, but be my guest. Seriously, I'm fine. Test my pee. I'm pretty sure you're going to get two lines. And no cocaine or other street drugs. (Betcha a MILLION dollars they tested for those too.) Good luck with that 0.003 oz of pee I gave you. I did promise to do better next time.

We get settled in the room where I divvy up crackers, juice boxes and toys to the two kids and start praying for a speedy visit and semi-conscious kids. I got neither.

It took ONE HOUR from start to finish for the doctor (resident. . .but I should be okay with that considering our circumstances, right?) to fill out his medical records software. He only interacted with me when he tabbed to a blank on his screen that required my participation. Kyle finished his pediatric rounds and stopped by the office to try to help with kids. He held Tru for me and witnessed the best part of the whole appointment.

Dr. Resident whips out his trusty ol' Doppler. He proceeds to listen to the baby's heart beat. At first it was the baby. . .but then baby moved. He adjusted the Doppler and I SWEAR he was hearing MY heart beat. . .you know the one that is WAY slower than the baby's just was. But instead of searching around for the actual baby's heart beat he left it there and continued with his counting for the minute with my heart beat thumping through the Doppler's speaker. ummmm. . .what was that all about. Kyle is looking at me with giant saucer eyes like "we are SO going to be talking about this encounter as soon as we're safely in the car." ( I should add that I don't think Dr. Resident was actually counting anything with the thumpin' Doppler. . .I think he was just pausing long enough to make Kyle/me think he was counting because if he had actually been counting, he would have freaked out and rushed us in for an emergency ultrasound to try to figure out why my baby had a heart rate in the 80s, rather than the mid-100s like he was supposed to. I'm just sayin'. Not to mention, why don't they have Dopplers with the digital display that does the counting for you. Maybe only the special doctors get those. You know the special doctors. . .the ones who have to use them countless times a day to check on babies. Wonder what kind of doctor I had, though I do think there are Obs/Midwives who are just so used to it that they know a proper rate vs. an irregular baby rate and don't need to count or have a digital display. . .I'm just thinkin' he was NOT one of those for the reason stated above.)

Dr. Resident then decides to measure my fundus. While he is doing this I say, "So sorry about the kids (even though they're being good). I wasn't sure how to get an appointment that would let me leave them home." His response : "Well at some point we're going to have to talk about birth control to take care of that situation." Now, I understand that OBs do generally have a conversation with a pregnant woman about her birth control plans for after the birth. But am I wrong to find it offensive for him to bring that up in response to my comment about my children? I informed him we wouldn't be delivering with his practice, as we will be moving shortly before I am due. I'll discuss that with someone who is NOT you.

The appointment concluded with him telling me to come back in 4 weeks and "we generally encourage women to see the same provider at each visit to help with continuity of care, so try to make your appointment with me." Ummmm, right. I promptly scheduled my next appointment with the midwife. I hear she may not be much better, but I'm crossing my fingers for more speedy. I'd like my prenatal visits to be like ripping off a Band-Aid from now on.

It all feels so pointless since I won't be delivering with them, but in my quest for a midwife to actually birth with, the potentials have mentioned that my having prenatal care (those words AGAIN) would make them more comfortable with my last minute transfer when we move. I already told Kyle I want to just stay home again and do it on our own. I'm thinking he's not convinced.

. . .wishing I could fly Joni and Dr. Grefnes to Arizona (or Iowa, or Wisconsin, or Indiana, or wherever we end up for residency) to give me the birth that I'm terrified of not having.

Real update with pictures and kid updates and mommy visit summary is actually coming. . .but this was obviously the first thing on my mind.