October 14, 2009
On Labor Induction and the Greatest Doctor Ever
Today’s ultrasound revealed that Monster Baby is just under 9 pounds.
“Give or take 15 ounces either way,” says the technician, and I swear my vagina let out a scream of terror.
I left the exam room and called Doug to let him know the results. He laughed. I’m certain he gets a big kick out of the thought of me being in immense pain. I’m thinking of ways to get revenge. Send your suggestions, will ya?
I had time between the ultrasound and my scheduled 39 week appointment, so I drove down to Taco Bell and enjoyed a ranchero chicken soft taco and fiesta potatoes. I had been craving the stuff for a week or more, and i figured I better indulge now, before many sleepless nights and foggy days commence. It was worth it. Of course, I needed a Tums post lunch, but I survived.
When I got back to the OB/GYN department for my appointment, I ran into a girl I went to high school with. She was a year or two behind me in school and I remember her as being very annoying back then. She never stopped talking, always asked a boat load of questions and I never enjoyed talking to her. I remember smiling and nodding a lot, and never finding a way to escape her chattering.
Turns out, some people never change. She wanted to know how far along I was, what I was having (“a baby, duh”) and what names I had chosen. Where was my husband, she asked, and why doesn’t he come to the appointment with you? When she asked if this was my first baby, I shook my head and reached into my purse for my BlackBerry. I proceeded to pretend I was very busy checking work e-mails. I was really Twittering. I think I posted an update that said, “Why do I always run into annoying people at the doc’s office?”
Finally the nurse called me back and I waited patiently for Dr. Fatchikov to examine me. He knocked on the door shortly thereafter. I was yawning and he said, “Oh, that is the face of an exhausted and desperate woman.”
“Yes,” I said. “I am ready to have this baby. The longer I am pregnant, the more tired I get. Sadly that won’t change post baby!”
When he checked my cervix, Dr. F discovered I was still stuck between 2 and 3 centimeters dilated. He measured my fundal height and then looked at the ultrasound results.
“Okay, baby is big. Let’s see what we can do.” he told me.
He called the maternity floor and asked what his schedule was like for tomorrow, as he is on call, but he already had a scheduled cesarean and a scheduled induction. Dr. F said it would not be fair to bring me in if he couldn’t promise his undivided attention.
“I really want to be the one to deliver your baby, but I am not comfortable with leaving you several times to attend to other patients. That is not my style of practice.” he said.
This is what I love about my doctor. He is honest. He is kind. No fluff. No sugar coating. And he listens. He truly cares about his patients, and if I could pronounce his first name (which is Tzvetan) I would totally name my son after him.
My other doctor (I have two because of my high risk history) happens to be on call on Friday, and Dr. F scheduled my induction for Friday morning at 7 a.m.
“Now, if my two deliveries go down without a hitch tomorrow, I will call you and you come in to be induced. I can’t promise, but I will try. Otherwise, you will be in on Friday. I will check up on you Saturday afternoon.” Dr. F explained.
He paged the nurse to complete the paper work and gave me a hug. I didn’t want to let go of the man. Which sounds a little nuts, I know, but this doctor has been so good to me over the last year and half. I can’t even describe the level of professionalism and kindness he has shown me. He is, and has been, the most amazing doctor a woman could ever ask for. I thanked him, with tears in my eyes, for all that he has done for me.
“Oh,” he said. “Be careful. You don’t want to see your doctor cry. Good luck, and I see you very soon.”
After he left the room, I got dressed and waited for the nurse to bring in the paperwork. I thought about the my first appointment with Dr. F and how depressed I was with my PCOS and my failure to conceive and how I was starting to think I was crazy, because other doctors told me I was fine and that weight loss would solve all my problems.
“You are not crazy,” Dr. F had told me. “This is a real disease and weight loss alone is not enough.”
He listened to me. He encouraged me. He cheered me on in my efforts to lose weight. With every pound lost, he gave me a high five, and sometimes a friendly hug.
He prescribed the right medicines to help my body overcome the obstacles that PCOS had thrown at me. And eight months after my first appointment, I was pregnant. Without Dr. Fatchikov, I don’t think it would have happened. He gave me hope.
Maybe it’s hormones that are making me so emotional, but I feel very lucky to have such a wonderful doctor. Thank you, Dr. F. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
So. Friday is the big day. I’m anxious. Nervous. Excited. And ready. So very ready.
RSS feed for comments on this post.
TrackBack URI
October 15th, 2009 at 12:34 AM, Headless Mom Says:
Maybe hormones, but you are lucky to have such a great doctor. (Have I told you about mine? Such great bedside manner…I’ll save it until after you deliver. You’ll thank me.)
Headless Mom´s last blog ..Remembering Summer
October 15th, 2009 at 11:05 AM, Becky Says:
omg yay how exciting! i can’t wait to hear about it all!
October 16th, 2009 at 6:20 AM, Andrea @ChocolateFingerprints.net Says:
YAY!! Today would be a wonderful day to be born (it’s my birthday!). I hope everything goes VERY smoothly for you, and that the baby isn’t as big as they think it is!
Andrea @ChocolateFingerprints.net´s last blog ..27 Isn’t Old…Is It?