Monday, February 10, 2014

Awkward Encounters: Doctor’s Office Edition

I’m not much for small talk.  I would like to think that I’m “friendly” (I always offer a smile!) but with strangers, I generally like to keep it to a short “How are you? Great! I’m good too. Chilly outside, warmer this weekend...”  But it seems that a big pregnant belly seems to attract converstaion with strangers.  Sometimes it’s nice, like the woman beside me on the plane who gave me some practical advice about pumping when I go back to work.  Maybe a little TMI to discuss with a stranger on a crowded plane, but her intentions were good so I didn’t mind.

Last week, I went to the doctor's office for my glucose test (which, by the way, my drink was lemon-lime flavored and it wasn't that bad!  and I passed the test - whew!)

After checking in, I sat down across from a couple in the lab waiting room.  The woman exclaims, “I love your shirt!  Where did you get it?”  As I peel off layers of coats and scarves, I explain that it’s actually a dress hiding under all of this, and I’m pretty sure I got it from Ross.

Nice people, always pleasant to start the day off with a compliment.
A minute later, the man asks the woman, “Do you see how big her ring is?”  Not a whisper.  Loudly enough for me to hear, purposefully for me to hear.  I have my arms folded across my stomach, so both my Aggie ring and my wedding/engagement rings are visible.  I smile at them and wiggle my fingers.

Woman: “Which one?!”

Man: “The one with the huge diamonds!  I gave Shana a ring even bigger than that. 

Woman: “Oh that’s too big, I woudn’t want that.”


The man gets called back to the lab.  And the woman continues to make conversation.

Woman: “So how far along are you?”

Me: “Almost 7 months!”

Woman: “I’m only four months, but I feel like you!”

She proceeds to take off her layers of coats to display her belly, waiting for my response.  But it isn’t really a big round pregnant belly, it’s sort of just a cushiony, slightly overweight belly. 

What am I supposed to say here!?  Is she wanting me to tell her that her belly is big?  Or should I say, oh you’re barely showing!? 

Me: “Maybe he will be a big boy – do you know what you’re having?”

Woman: *huffs* “Not yet, I’m still waiting on Medicare.” *huffs again*

Me: “Oh, that must be frustrating.”

As a working gal with insurance, I’m not too sure how the Medicare process works, so I really can’t make any conversation around this or relate to her.

Me: “Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

Woman: “Well he already has 6 kids – 5 girls and 1 boy.  And I have a boy and a girl”

Me: “Oh my, a full house!  I bet you’ll just be happy with a healthy baby then.”

Woman: “I tell you what, I’m about to go doctor shopping to find me a doctor who will tie my tubes and give him a vasectomy!”

Might come across as a funny joke, but this woman was 100% serious.

Door opens.  “Mrs. Cooper?”

Oh thank God!  I’m terrified of blood, but I think I’d rather be back in the lab with a needle in my arm than hear what would come out of this woman’s mouth next!

Oh the joys of pregnancy :)  More awkward encounters to come soon.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

My worst nightmare

I awoke this morning very grateful for my husband and the life we share.  It was a rare occasion where, at 7am, I was actually happy that my alarm was buzzing at me.  Waking me up from a terrible nightmare, worse than the usuals that haunt my dreams....

 - Worse than the ones where I get shot (Usually in the stomach, by the bad guys who are chasing me.  But I always live to tell the tale.)

 - Worse than the ones where I back my car into something (But it's never my fault! The breaks are faulty and I just can't stop the car!)

 - And even worse than the packing nightmares (Where I'm leaving on a trip in 5 minutes and frantically throwing things in a suitcase while someone honks a car horn at me from outside.  Seriously, the worst dreams ever, I will wake up in a complete sweaty panic!)

This dream, was the worst of all.  It was a few years down the road, and I was sitting silently in the kitchen, crying, watching Tom carry half of our belongingsout  to a moving truck.  We were getting a divorce.  Half of our couches, half of our towels, half of our daughter's clothes, half of her toys, and half of my heart, all walking out the front door.  I pleaded with him not to go, we could make it work, it could be better!  But, he left anyway, it was "for the best."

My parents came and took me to the Fort Worth Stockyards (random?), so we could grab dinner, wander around, get my mind off of things.  But throughout the day, Tom was sending messages to my phone.  He thought he was being helpful, sweet, by sending pictures of our daughter. Spending the day with him. Pictures of her swimming, pictures of her new room at his new house. Joking about how much more difficult it is to take care of a kid by oneself.  

I was a disaster in the dream, a total blubbering mess. It was the most heart-wrenching thing I'd ever been through, and it seemed so. dang. real.

Finally, the sound I usually despise rang out and woke me up.  And there was my husband beside me, still asleep, completely unaware that I was about to shower him hugs and "don't ever leave me"s!  (Funny story though, when I first told him I dreamt we were getting a divorce, he said "what did I do?" Naturally he thought I was divorcing him, not the other way around. Maybe I should take it easier on the poor guy!)

Today, I am so very thankful that I get to share my life with such an awesome man, who will stick with me through thick and thin, sleepless nights and dirty diapers.  Who loves me despite the fact that I hog the covers, let the trash can overflow, and never have a full tank of gas. And who isn't going anywhere.