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Looking Good for My OB

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Mom-to-Be: As I squeeze myself into my jeans, put on my most flattering heels (which pinch my ever-expanding feet) and spin hopefully in front of the full-length mirror, you'd think I was getting ready for a first date, not an appointment with my OB. But something comes over me on the mornings I'm supposed to see her -- I get nervous and insecure, like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

Will she notice the pregnancy acne that I've tried to cover up? Will she think I've gained too much weight? Will she be proud of me that I resisted that second bowl of mint-chip ice cream the night before? I guess I just want her approval. It's like I'm back in high school and she's the popular cheerleader -- and I'm ... well, trying to fit in. 

She sees so many pregnant women throughout the day that I want to stand out, maybe even be one of her favorites. I'm sure I should be more focused on hearing my baby's heartbeat and knowing that everything is OK with my future child. Don't get me wrong: I do care about those things very much. But ever since becoming pregnant and losing control of my body, I've become obsessed. And for some reason, my OB's opinion matters more than anyone's. 

But she has no clue. I never say a word. I just step on the scale for the nurse (silently praying I'm not tipping the thing) and sit patiently while she checks my blood pressure. And when my doctor comes in, I turn on the charm and maybe even flirt just a little, hoping for a compliment. 

So far, nothing. But you never know -- I might be able to win her over before I give birth!

next: Injectable Me?
7 comments so far | Post a comment now
Jaimee S September 22, 2010, 2:54 PM

Lisa, I did the same thing. My husband would always ask me why I’m putting makeup on. After the delivery of my first baby, I ran into my ob and I gave her a hug. It was very clear that she was uncomfortable with it. All of this “caring what she thinks of you” will go out the window during the delivery when you’re sweaty, panting, swearing and her head is 3 inches from your vagina. I promise, you’ll get over it.

Liz Fenton September 23, 2010, 7:42 AM

Lisa, I did the same thing! But mine was a guy. But not a cute guy so I think that makes it okay? haha

Catherine  September 25, 2010, 5:18 PM

Loved this! So true…you blog for us all and your next crush will be the pediatrician :)

Fashion Trends October 12, 2010, 3:30 PM

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