Barefootin' Mama in the Middle of Nowhere

McDreamy & Me

So… for the majority of my pregnancy I guess it kind of slipped my mind how it would have to end… (except in the beginning when I had to watch all those horrible birthing shows with Paul’s mom… who, might I add, is watching them this time around as well…)… When it comes to nakedness… I am slightly on the more mormon side of conservative… I was never one of those girls who could just prance around in my panties and bra after gym class in front of all the other girls in my class.  It took me years and years and years before I even wanted to see my own self naked (let alone some guy)… and trust me… I still have issues with that.

My point is this… the doctor who I had been seeing previously in my life left… (like all good doctors in rural Saskatchewan eventually do) and his replacement doctor was… well… I found something about him undeniably sexy… which had never been a problem (until now).  I use to LOVE going to my appointments… where I would sit and listen to his South African accent and have a major crush on him.  A couple times a year he would let his hair grown longish… and he would look like a rugby-playing surfer (I say rugby playing because he has broad shoulders… and I have never seen him with his shirt off (unless you count my dreams……)… so I don’t know if he looks completely like a surfer or not…) and sit across the desk from me and talk about my cows and my baby belly… all good… Until now…

Remember those awful things ladies have to undergo… internal exams….. ewww….even the word makes me want to run away, hide under my covers and cross my legs really, really tight…. apparently you have to have internal exams… nine thousand times when you are pregnant!! Which is completely NOT cool!!  FOr those who are squeamish… I advise you to look away… I remember towards the end when I went there thinking it was going to be a “hey how is your belly? how is combining going, etc…” kind of appointment… when how do you do.. he offers me a gown and steps out of the room… Now, I don’t know if you know how hard it is to shave your legs when you are pregnant… (in the end anyway) so I had been slacking… fully prepared to keep them well groomed in the end and any time I knew someone other than Paul was going to have to deal with it.  Don’t get me wrong… it wasn’t like the overgrown forest or anything but it was definitely more stubbly than I wanted my hot, hunky, surfer dude doctor to see…. too bad for me.. there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.  So I strip down (never knowing if I need to remove my bra and socks or not… they always say “take off everything” but why my socks??? and my boobs weren’t having a baby so why my bra???) and put on this stupid robe and clamber up on the bed… feeling awkward and super pissed that I wasn’t aware that this was about to happen so I could prepare myself…  Dr.McSurfer (yes I love grey’s anatomy) comes back in and starts checking around in there and I am like “whoa buddy… that’s about enough of that” as this is 10 times worse than a pap… and then he says “blah blah blah… something about effaced and not dilated and strech” STRETCH?!?!?! Did he just say STRETCH?  “Ummmm…. pardon me??” I whisper… close to passing out.  He chuckles… “Oh I am just going to stretch… blah blah blah..” I am sure he told me what he was about to stretch and why… but at that point I pretty much blacked out… I went into la la land where doctors who look like surfers are surfers not sticking their fingers up my va-jay-jay and saying things like stretch… there will be no stretching of  that area down there thank you very much…  So I can’t tell you if it was awful or not… because I zoned completely out… but I am sure it was….  ANd it wasn’t the last time… oh no… once would never be enough…. I couldn’t possibly be that lucky.


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