Cooked Goose

I understand that we do things in doctor’s offices – things we would not do anywhere else. Like nuding up and putting on that ridiculous, powder blue, paper get-up with the ‘back door’ swung wide open. Like having a grown man handle your sac to check for an unwanted mass on your nut. And at forty-two, bending over for that grown man is right around the corner for me. So, I have that to look forward to. It’s a different place, where a lot of stuff that wouldn’t go, goes. And it’s a different relationship – that Dr/patient relationship.

I get it. But even by medical standards, pregnancy and birth are … how do I say? … intimate. It’s all out there, man. Inhibitions be damned; there are more pressing things afoot. After we got a Doctor’s confirmation that my wife was indeed pregnant, the first order of business was finding a OB/GYN. The nurse at the clinic recommended highly a Dr in the area. He was a dude. I still remember our first office visit in which the Dude proceeded to check my wife. It was strange. In the same breath, I felt like saying, “Is everything okay?” and “Hey, man! What the hell you doin’?” Both wanting to thank him, and choke him out.

At delivery, the Dude did not show up – which we’ve since learned is fairly common. A real wonderful Lady Dr was on call for the delivery. She was so skilled, so comforting, and in a way that you’d want in a trauma situation – she took charge. When we found out about our second pregnancy, my wife wanted to look for a female OB. I agreed. Look, I’m not saying Dude OBs are bad. If you and your wife can roll like that, good for you. I’m sure there are tons of great Dudes out there doing great OB/GYNing. Just telling our experience. Perhaps, the more important principle here is pregnancy and birth are intimate, deeply personal processes. If you are able, take the time to find a Dr with whom your wife is very comfortable.

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