Had it been a rainy day, which it often is in Belgium, I still would have looked forward to seeing Dr. M today. She’s my second gynecologist since moving here. I’d struggled to find good chemistry with my first doctor, Dr. V.
After living here just a few months and struggling with Dutch and life in a new country, I’d hoped to find a friendly English-speaking ob-gyn so that Davy and I could start on baby-making love. My first doctor, Dr. V, had been neither friendly nor wanting to speak English and so as soon as I got pregnant I’d switched doctors and never looked back. Then today, while waiting for Dr. M in the waiting room, I ran into Dr. V.
The last time I’d seen Dr. V he’d told me my pregnancy was “not a guarantee” as opposed to congratulating me perhaps, or once smiling even. And again today, there was no smile upon his face while he attempted to make eye contact with me. I’d never actually “broken up” with him, but instead had let Dr. M’s assistant to do it for me since it was offered, when I switched. So I stood there today avoiding Dr. V’s eyes, like a child or a neurotic adult, but I felt so awkward considering my vagina was the common thread in the chance meeting.
Then the moment I’d been waiting for all morning happened, saving me from Dr. V.
Dr. M. appeared and met Noah for the first time since pulling him out of my vagina about a year ago. They came face-to-face and Noah studied her intently, for a while, before he launched into the kind of baby-talk babble reserved only for the more serious talks. It’s like he was catching Dr. M up on the first year of his life. This is the stuff I live for. I love watching people interact, most of all people like Noah and Dr. M. in a moment like this.
Once inside the exam room, I got Dr. M caught up on the goings-on of my lady milkshake parts and hormonal raging. Then she rolled Noah right over next to where I’d be, in a naked minute. It was a memorable Kodak moment.
I’ve never brought a baby, let alone my own baby, to a gynecologist’s appointment. I didn’t know what gyn-etiquetee dictated in this case, but everything worked out great. Dr. M. even punked me with “You’re pregnant!” while she checked out my cervix with her fingers. And we all laughed. Good times, and the last time Noah will be in a room with me while I’m knees-up in stirrups.
And with my last to-do being my making a new appointment, Noah and I said our goodbyes to Dr. M and headed down the hall to the waiting area. Of course Dr. V. turned a corner and started walking towards us. Clearly I was being taught some karmic lesson in social awkwardness, but I managed to duck into the secretary’s office and asked for my next appointment on the calendar. And of course, Dr. V. followed in after me into the office looking for some files and continued to sneak stares at me while “looking for some files” while I scheduled my next visit with the secretary.
I could have turned to Dr. V. at any point and said hello, or even just smiled and nodded his way but I didn’t. I didn’t want to at first and then I really didn’t want to because of the all the subsequent stares and then my drama queen in me took over and that’s that. I made all this a big deal.
But I know Dr. M would never stare anyone down, and I’m so glad I had her to guide me through the year I got pregnant and had Noah and not Dr. V. She made my most vulnerable times feel safe and natural. And I do love her, without it ever being awkward.