I have decided that doctors are liars.
Not everything they say exactly, only those things they get taught in medical school and residency as ways to calm down patients.
"This won't hurt a bit!"
Followed by writhing in pain.
"This may cause you to gag a little"
As they shove a giant cotton swab down your throat and end up with regurgitated substances all over their shoes.
I'm sure you have your own, and it is different depending on the doctor. All I know is I want a doctor to just look at me and tell me like it is. If it's gonna hurt, just tell me it's gonna hurt. If it's gonna be the worst pain of my life ----- TELL ME!!!! At least I can somewhat be prepared by putting on my mental big girl panties.
I'm pretty sure Dr. West - the OB - has learned this about me. He knows I don't like it when he tells me stories . . . . . such as "Don't worry! I'll absolutely be there to deliver your baby girl."
Lie!
"I know I missed the last one, I'll absolutely be there for this one though."
LIE!
"There's no way you'll go into labor over the Holidays. I think you'll make it to the delivery date!"
LIE LIE LIE!!!!!
I think he's decided now that as much as I love him it's probably best just to not tell me anything, that way he isn't lying . . . . cause I hold it against him when he lies.
Such is the case with my six week check up. . . . . .
We'll start with the good news. Nurse calls me back, let's stop at the scale. I was kind of interested in this one. I've been working out for about three weeks now, so I was really hoping to see some numbers fall off that scale. I'm a little more than half way back to pre-baby weight . . . in six weeks.
I really can't remember though if that is good, or if it's slower than the last two. Everyone says it's with the third that it starts to be harder and harder to get the weight off. I'm not sure if that is true, or if it's just that it hasn't actually been as long as I think it has been, or as it feels like its' been. I'm fairly determined to have the rest of it off by my next appointment in a month . . . . Eric doesn't think I can do it . . . . . silly boy . . . . . . P90X is for GIRLS!!!
Back to the appointment.
Eric and I had decided to try the FINAL form of birth control we have not tried yet, and by default, the only one that has not failed us . . . . the IUD.
dun DUN DUN!!!
Yes, I know. I've heard all the horror stories. I was against them for a long time. My sister had her own horror story with one. I saw the episode of house where the nun with a flavorful past has an allergic reaction to the copper IUD she had put in before she put on her habit.
Yes, I get it. But really there was no other option, unless we wanted to tie the tubes, or snippy snippy Eric. Jury is still out on how permanent we want this to be. I definitely feel done. I feel like our house is full, and our lives are full, and three is a good number. But let's face it, I thought one was a good number. And then I thought two was a good number, especially when there's two of each. And none of that stopped us from getting pregnant again . . . . neither did the multiple forms of birth control.
Shortly after Preslie was born I had a dream about a little dark haired boy named Paxton running around our house. Although the dark haired part (try STRAWBERRY MILKSHAKE) has yet to come true, the third baby did come . . . quicker than I wanted, but I guess God knows best.
So far I haven't had any crazy dreams involving children we don't already have. So it's very possible we are done, and there won't ever be another little "P" Marshall running around. I guess I just have this nagging feeling that if I were to make it completely permanent at my 24 years of age, when it's been a few years, and the midlife crisis of an approaching 30th birthday is coming, I may want to hold onto the youth that comes with carrying a baby. We've got time right? No reason, for me at least, to make it impossible in the future.
So the IUD it is.
The nurse says OH GREAT I'll get everything set up. Did you clear it with your insurance yet?
Eric gets amazing benefits through work. Not sure yet how amazing they are going to be, since we haven't gotten a single doctor bill from the delivery, but with all other claims they have been great, and everyone at his work says they are the best. So I hadn't checked with them yet. I told her no big deal, if they don't pay for it, we will pick it up.
"Are you sure, cause it's $1,000."
Well yes that does put a different spin on it. I would like to pay for my kid's college nurse. Okay okay, I'll check. GEEZ!
Check with the insurance, we're good to go.
Smart insurance company. A thousand dollars is WAY less than a delivery.
Doctor comes in and is all "scoot down", "Let me show you this" yada yada yada.
And then we began talking about the complexities of the third child baby weight when all of a sudden PPPPPAAAAAAIIIIIINNNNNN!!!!!!
I'm not a wuss.
Ask Eric, I'm pretty tough. I have quite the high pain tolerance. So for me to have said "OW!" like I did means it was a pretty gnarly.
And then the doc told me a lie.
"Just a little pinch."
EXCUSE ME?!?!
Doctor West, have you ever had a T the size of a baby fork stabbed into the walls of your cervix?
Ya, didn't think so.
Don't tell me it's just a PINCH cause you never felt it!
WAY more than a pinch, sir, a pinch is like POW and then you're done, this is continuing to send shock waves throughout my body as you continue to yank and pull on areas of my body that aren't supposed to be yanked and pulled on.
Well I'll save you from the rest of the gruesome details.
Everything went fine.
I know have a foreign body lodged in my uterus to keep other foreign bodies that cost more from lodging in my uterus.
I'm sure it's a good thing.
But it was WAY more than a pinch.