Once a year it has to happen. And once a year I think, this time I’ll hire a babysitter so I can go do this in peace. Your annual visit to the lady-doctor is bad enough but doing it with kids in tow makes it 1,000 times worse.
The prep for an event as thrilling as your annual gynnie visit is not much different than that of a long-awaited date night. You shower, do your hair, shave, make sure things are orderly down there – only there is no promise of sexytimes at the end but only that of a giant q-tip being shoved in your snatch. It’s humiliating enough to lie there with your legs spread eagle making mindless chit chat with the man or woman who is professionally violating you but it’s even better when your two year old son is hanging out on the other side of the stirrups.
Today was quite the trip. I had managed to farm out 2 & 3 and 1 was at school so I thought I was golden to fly this one solo. I was wrong. The farm out backfired and 2 & 3 ended up tagging along for the ride. My kids are usually pretty well-behaved and I came loaded for bear. I stopped at McDonald’s beforehand to load up on processed foods, stuffed my diaper bag with iPads, fruit snacks, and a huge bag of left over Easter candy. These kids could pretty much have anything they wanted as long as they stayed quiet and still. I figured it wasn’t going to be that big of a deal, it was an OB/GYN office for heaven’s sake, kids come in and out of there all the time. When I was pregnant with #3, I was in there weekly with my girls. Apparently 3 and 4 year old girls are a piece of cake compared to a 2 year old boy and 4 year old girl.
We got into the exam room and I set them up with the aforementioned arsenal of child entertainment. I climbed onto the exam table and discretely rigged my maxi dress to reveal as little as possible to my two tiny onlookers. The nurse came in and did the usual vitals check and “hey how’s it going” shtick. During this time, my 4 year old decided she had to go to the bathroom and made her way into the one in the exam room. She’s usually pretty quick unless she’s going…number 2 and then she takes FOREVER and sings at the top of her lungs the whole time. The nurse and I were cracking up and I secretly prayed that this was the only blunder during the visit.
By the time the doctor came in and told me to saddle up, my 2 year old son had scarfed all the snacks and exhausted the iPad. He was much more interested in what was going on with me. He crept to my shoulder saying, “Mama what dat? Mama who dat? Mama ouchie?” I gently shewed him away but instead of going back to his seat he decided to go hang out with the doctor, who if you’re at all familiar with lady exams, was staring down the barrel of the gun that birthed him. The doc was horrified when he said “Haha mamma nakey!” and she tried to get him to move but couldn’t touch him because her hands were um…occupied. He finally got bored and made his way back to his seat and I was MORTIFIED.
It gets better.
I got myself dressed and stood up to gather the troops while listening to the doctor rattle off the details of my upcoming mammogram and out of the corner of my eye I see Gabriel climb up on the exam table, take off his pants, and try and put his feet in the stirrups. Lucy thought it was a hoot and decided to follow along. All I could do was apologize to the poor woman standing in front of me. At one point the two of them were both standing up on the exam table dancing around to Taio Cruz’s Break Your Heart which was blaring from one of the iPads.
I begged for them to get down and be quiet and by the time I turned around to thank (and apologize to) the doctor, she had quietly slipped out of the room. I can’t say I blame the woman. The moral of the story is that the day you have your first child is the day your dignity goes out the window. And the day you bring your 2 and 4 year old to a gynecologist appointment is the day you are assured in every possible way that having your tubes tied was the best decision you’ve ever made.