“It’s too early to get up!”
“Charlotte, we slept in this morning. Come on. Let’s go. Don’t worry. I’ll take the dog out.”
“Coffee?” I muttered, hoping that by saying the word, I would muster up enough energy to at least make it to the bathroom to put in my lenses.
I gave Sandy a good morning kiss and turned on CNN where images of a happier Lance Armstrong flashed across the screen. Scumbag, I thought to myself.
The temperatures in Hoboken last Friday morning were below freezing. As Bryan and I ventured outside to start up the car, I brought my mittens up to my cheeks in a pathetic attempt to keep them warm. I really need to patch up all of these holes…
I was on my way to the gynecologist. I couldn’t remember the last time it had been since I went to see her, which means it’s been over a year. There isn’t a greater way to start the morning than with a bit of poking and prodding, right? Thankfully I remembered to shave the night before. Why is this so important? Do gynos sit around with their friends and discuss who did/didn’t do landscaping prior to their appointment?
I exited the Path at 9th Street and made my way to a clean and relaxed waiting room. I was grateful it wasn’t packed with weary and impatient patients filling out forms and pacing by the doors. “Charlotte? Just this way.”
I was whisked into another room. All I saw were stirrups and a pink smock. Cute!
I think the worst part of going to see the hoo-ha doctor (I mean, aside from everything) is just hanging out on that paper sheet while you wait for the doctor to emerge. There weren’t any nice images for me to look at (aside from the obligatory female reproductive poster that is likely hanging in every single OB/GYN office). I forced my mind to think about my new favorite lunch spot and their delicious butternut squash soup and the pile of crap I had sitting on my desk at work, the phone call with a friend I had the night before, and how long it’s been since I’ve spoken to one of my girls…
“Oh, hello there! It’s been a while!”
Idle chit chat.
“So, have you seen any good movies lately?” the doctor looked up from between my legs. Dear God. Well, at least conversation should keep my mind preoccupied, right?
Before I knew it, we had moved on to bigger topics like the importance of screening for Tay-Sachs disease. I didn’t realize there was a possibility that I could be a carrier, but it’s even more scary stuff to think about where making babies is concerned.
“Okay! Get dressed and meet me down the hall,” the doctor smiled sympathetically.
That wasn’t so bad, I thought. I mean, the exam itself lasted less than five minutes and at least the office is warm. What’s more? I got to miss half a day of work. Well, I wouldn’t exactly say I was MISSING it…
“Do you have any questions for me?” she asked when I sat across from her.
“I do, actually. You know, I think about having babies. I mean, not like, right now or anything, but one day… maybe not too far off. I saw this episode of New Girl recently and someone mentioned that females lose 90% of their eggs by the time they reach 30 [whenever I get nervous I quote really random things I see on TV or read in the paper] and I was just wondering…”
“Okay. Stop panicking. You’re young. The truth of the matter is you just won’t know until you start trying.”
Her words echoed through my head as I made my way back to the office. I mean, what good does it do me to stress about things that may just be out of my control? I don’t FEEL old and my mom was well into her 30s when she gave birth to me. Doesn’t society stress us all out enough already? Why pack on even more worry?
Fark, it’s cold out here.
Silver lining: they had my butternut squash soup that day. Sometimes it’s the little things.