Thank you all for your concern about the doctor – I am glad we can all agree she had the bedside manner of a pinto bean (and I didn’t even mention the part where she never once acknowledged Bart in the room; she didn’t even look at him). Let me tell you, I was pretty steamed by the time we walked out of there. I am surprised my eyes are not permanently stuck looking into my skull from the eye rolling I did.
The good news is, she’s not my regular doctor. The office I go to doesn’t do ultrasounds, so they send their clients to a clinic downtown (believe me, I’ll be telling them on my next appointment how unimpressed I was by them and how several other women I know have been similarly unimpressed). I will very likely never see that woman again.
My own doctor is delightful. When I went in to hear the heartbeat a few weeks ago, I told the doctor I wanted to call Bart and let him hear it, since he couldn’t come to the appointment. She not only quickly agreed, but then held the phone for me right near the microphone so he could hear it more clearly. Afterwards, when I thanked her for letting me call him and letting him listen, she said, “Oh, it was fun for me too!”
And my midwife? I liked her instantly. She was so pleasant, so quick to answer any questions, offer advice about various genetic testing, but also not be pushy either way, and very open to different options for labor and delivery. I loved her and so did Bart.
And of COURSE the important thing is that the baby is healthy. I would rather have that than know the gender of the baby every day of the week. But once they said everything else looked good and I didn’t need to worry about it, well, then, I’d really like to know what my baby is going to be.
But, you know, not enough to pay $70 at one of those 3D ultrasound places. Because my cheapness is just one more thing that pregnancy has not changed even a little bit.