O to the B

At risk of sounding like a total prude, I have never had anything up my butt. Not sexually, not medically, and not by accident (what god forsaken accident would this be? I can only imagine. And if you Google it, you'll find all sorts of horrifying things to be afraid of. For example, bananas. Just sayin.) I probably did indeed have my rectal temperature taken as an infant, but this was at a time in my cognitive development when memories were not being formed, probably for this very reason. And don't get me wrong, I'm not afraid of my butt. In fact, we are great buddies. I'm a big fan of how it operates, as a sphincter that works in one direction. ONE direction. Out. And that's the kind of business I like to keep in order. That's the relationship I want to maintain between me and the butt. I don't want to confuse him (or her?) by introducing new directions. I don't want things to ever start moving in the opposite direction. Can you imagine how awful that would be, talking to my husband about the birth of our first baby, a sudden onset of diarrhea, a dash to the bathroom, and then a confused sphincter?!?

Here I am at the doc. I know the look on my face says "excitement," but that's merely a trick. In fact, this photo represents one of the expressions I make when I'm warding off a panic attack. The other one is me looking like a squirrel, tucking my top lip under, flashing my pearly whites in all their glory. I've been slowly trying to train myself out of that expression, because it makes me look like a freak. So I opt for the over stressed neck and shoulder muscles and fake smile. Good thing my ever-supportive husband was with me to take pictures to record this special moment in time.

And here are "the tools." Or, so I think, during the 20 minutes pant-less wait in the patient room. I keep imagining my pending sodomization. Even Googling the Group B strep test to make sure it's legit. I don't want to be some Kaiser doc's victim of weird practices.

And by the way, the exam was SO not a big deal. Which I'm sure most of you could have figured out. Seriously, barely even a blip on my radar. But maybe it was because we got that part out of the way first, and I knew I would get to see and hear my baby girl today. And I did! She was so big! No wonder it feels like there's no room at the inn. There's not. She is still as active as can be, my belly is measuring just right, I'm still right on for weight gain, and she's already in the head down position! Our midwife kept telling us how smart she must be, and how cute she was. This is how it all starts, and I have to admit, I kinda liked it. My baby's already so smart! And so beautiful! And here she is, at 35 weeks. Still can't make out distinguishing features in ultrasound pictures, but I pretend I can, and agree with how adorable she must be.

I can't even orient you to this image. Supposedly it's her eyes and cute button nose. Must not be ours then! Just kidding, as long as she's not as ghoulish looking in real life, I think we'll be fine.

And now here is my favorite doctor of them all, Dr. Daddy! He's got the stethoscope in hand. Not that either of us knows how to work it. And that pensive look on his face. He must be listening closely to what his daughter is saying. Something to the effect of "Daddy, if you pay me 50 bucks, I'll kick mama's belly button out so you win the bet."