Welcome...v byenvini...benvenuti

The welcome mat was rolled out this morning. The yard was trimmed--weeds freshly cut, siding cleaned, you name it. And just when Mrs. Hootchkins was lamenting the lack of recent visitors to her single family abode, along came Dr. Proscreen.

Yep, this morning another lucky fella got to have a look inside my nether regions and make my good lady's acquaintance. Today was regular OB visit #1 and things were remarkably normal.

I got to ride the speculum express for free, along with some bonus cultures thrown in for good measure. Oh, and let's not forget the complimentary two-fingered KY palp ride. Yessiree, a good time was definitely had by all. No ultrasound dammit--and given the plush office surroundings, my original idea to pitch a crying fit in order to get one suddenly was a no-go. But I did get a consolation prize: fetal doppler to hear Himorshe's heartbeat--which Dr. Proscreen pronounced as sounding 'great.' My reply to this news? "I'm just so glad it's still alive." Dr. Proscreen chuckled but A said I should have seen the look on his face--apparently the chuckle was peppered with a momentary "WTF?" expression on the good doc's face. Priceless A tells me. Hey, at least I was honest.

After being brought to third base (wink wink nod nod) by the good doc, I then had to give enough blood to supply a small bloodmobile. Which is what precipitated the doc's moniker. After the blood draw, we waited 40 minutes to see him (he had to run to the hospital next door to perform a c-section--scary that he was there and back to us in 40 minutes, don't you think?) and he proceeded to go over the screening tests that I'll have done and asked us what we were thinking about in terms of doing/not doing amnio, given my elderly primagravida state of 35 years. I was honest--at this time, the risk of miscarriage from amnio (1 in 250) simply is not worth it to me.

Yes, I understand I have a 1 in 350 chance of having a Down's syndrome baby, but I've waited 4 years to get to this point. So I told him I just didn't want to chance it at this time. He understood completely he said...but upon his pressing the issue (in a good-natured way, mind you), I did go on to clarify that if any of the screens came back abnormal, then I'd certainly reconsider my stance on the matter. And so it was agreed.

And that, dear friends, was the state of my uterine affairs this morning. Next week, the genetic counselor--who Dr. Proscreen presumes will tell me exactly the same things discussed today. The week after that, back to the peri--now christened Dr. Prevni (a shout out to her Creole heritage--prevni is the creole word for 'prevention' since she's all about preventing any complications I may be at risk for).

My next regular OB visit is in 4 weeks--when yet another stranger will make Mrs. Hootchkins' acquaintance. Apparently, the practice likes you to see a different doctor each time because that way you'll at least have had one chance to (hopefully) meet the doctor that will end up delivering your baby. Hold on a second, you mean these people really think that's gonna happen come early July? Wow...I like their thinking. Let me think about that novel concept....

Nah, too much for the time being. Now excuse me while I go online and rent me a fetal doppler--one can never have too much reassurance, especially when you're an elderly primagravida.