So Mike and Nathan accompanied me to my IUD appointment and after I had taken off my skivvies, Nathan started crying. If my half-naked body sent him into tears, imagine if I had gone the full-monty? Mike wheeled the stroller out of the room, leaving me alone with the doctor.
As she measured my uterus, she said, “Adorable. Just adorable.” Her voice trailed off like she was admiring a Picasso.
“Um, excuse me?” I was taken aback. I wouldn’t say my vagina is adorable. I mean, it’s okay looking, but definitely not a stunner and sure as hell not adorable. I’ve had a baby so I know I’m not going to win any Miss Vagina World pageants anytime soon.
“Your son,” she said. “He’s just adorable!”
She wasn’t my regular doctor. She was a new one who couldn’t get through all the preliminary medical questions without giggling like, “Have you had any unprotected intercourse with ejaculation in the past two weeks? No? Hee-hee, okay!”
It reminded me of that episode of Beavis and Butthead in which they take a sex ed class but they’re not supposed to laugh or they’ll get expelled and the whole time Mr. Buzzcut (sad, I remember his name) says, “And we’re going to be talking about the PENIS! And the VAGINA!”
I had expected to walk out of there looking like I had been on a horse all day, but the whole deal was twenty minutes (the longest part being the preparation) and relatively painless. Nothing like the horror stories about cramping or bleeding my friends, or so-called friends, had warned me about. They were trying to scare me into having more babies and I’m sure my in-laws paid them to do it.