I saw a new gynecologist this week. My last ob/gyn was fantastic, but not conveniently located and driving to her office felt like a cross-country trip. I found myself wanting to rent a motor home to drive to my appointments but motor homes are murder to drive through Hollywood and I was afraid that I’d run over homeless people. I’m against running over homeless people. Except for the one who threw up on my car at a stop light. He had it coming. Judging from the contents of his stomach at 9:00 am, the fact that he was wearing a parka in July and his crazy astronaut-style moonwalk, I was doing him a favor anyway.
Side note: I did not actually run over that homeless guy except in my mind and if you could see what else happens in my mind you would see that running over a homeless man is the least of my mental offenses.
“She is a complete nutbag and I know nutbags.” (image via dreamstime)
Anyway, my new ob/gyn is cool but I think we got off on the wrong foot. First of all, she asked me about any health concerns I might have and when I listed them she smiled and said, “welcome to your 40s.”
Evidently becoming 40 is the worst thing you can do for your health. Worse than eating bacon and cubes of butter for breakfast every day, which makes me feel a little foolish for eating oatmeal with chia seeds. But the fact that she was so cavalier about my geriatric health issues irked me. She didn’t even give me a card to soften the blow. Something like:
Welcome to your 40s. Sorry your body is turning on you, but at least you’re still alive.
I can’t really judge her about the card thing. I’m not really good about giving cards either and she’s a busy doctor. But an Amazon gift card would’ve been thoughtful. Just saying.
“My doctor threw me an enlarged prostate party!” (image via dreamstime)
Then she asked me about my job. I said I was a stay at home mom and a blogger. Again she smiled and asked what kind of blog.
“A humor blog,” I said.
“Good for you.” she replied.
Subtext: Another stay at home mom who writes a blog. Such a cliché. And a humor blog? That’s weird because she’s not that funny.
I might have been projecting there. It’s hard to have a dignified conversation with someone who has their head between your legs, which is why you never hear stimulating dialogue in porn. Still, I had to really fight the urge to add, and an astrophysicist just to make myself feel better. I did resist the urge, because it’s also not a good practice to lie to someone who has their head between your legs. Before and after they have their head between your legs is okay, but not during.
“A vagina never lies.” (image via dreamstime)
Just because I run over vomiting homeless people in my mind doesn’t mean that I don’t have moral standards.
Then the doctor mentioned that my uterus was large and I got all up in her grill.
Large? Large as in slightly chubby and cute like the babies it developed? Or large as in call Richard Simmons because this uterus is morbidly obese and house bound? Am I going to have to buy a second seat on an airplane for my uterus? Are people going to judge it for its size instead of getting to know its personality? Because my uterus is so much more than just a dress size. Why is it that having large breasts is a good thing but having a large uterus garners you criticism? I bet there are cultures where a large uterus is desirable. If Hollywood didn’t set up impossible standards by constantly showing anorexic uteri I bet we wouldn’t even be judging the size of my uterus. Why do we as a society castigate uteri for being different than the norm? My uterus is big and beautiful and I refuse to be ashamed of it!
I didn’t actually say those things but I thought them. Loudly. I was totally about to declare the inherent beauty of my large uterus out loud, but then she said, “You probably have fibroids.”
“Oh.”
So I put my underwear back on and took my large, fibrous, forty-something year old uterus home, fed it a cupcake and looked at the stuff on Amazon I’d buy if I had a gift card. Later on I dressed up as a super hero and went to a screening of The Avengers. I bet Scarlett Johansson has a big uterus.
“I do have a large uterus and men love it.” (image via dreamstime)
Fathead Follies 
First of all, I bet she was secretly jealous–she would probably love to be a SAHM and have a blog. There is such a double standard for SAHMs. People criticize women for putting their kids in daycare, but they also criticize them for staying at home (at least in their minds, anyway, even if they offer the patronizing “Good for you” line instead). Can’t win either way. You just have to do what is right for you and your family. 🙂
Second of all, sorry about your grande-sized uterus. Hope it treats you kindly.
You know, I have to accept myself for who I am–a SAHM/blogger with a voluptuous uterus. There’s no shame in that (said as I binge on chocolate).
Ooh, I like chocolate!
I’ve spent time as both a SAHM and a working mother. Neither was easier; neither was harder. They were just different. 🙂
I’ve done both too and I agree. The SAHM role just worked out better for me.
Big is beautiful! Especially on a redhead. It is red headed right? Wait a minute? Seriously though, keep us posted on the fibroids. Will you have to get them removed? What happens next?
She said it isn’t anything serious. If they keep growing and start bullying my other organs, I might have to do something. For now I’m going to try to manage them with diet and stress management, which means that I’m going to have to ask my family to move out.
Uhm…I have an Amazon gift card and even though I bought two spice racks (that I probably can’t figure out to hang but if I do I will have created more cabinet space) and a tea kettle (my current one no longer whistles and the handle is melting) I still mostly just look at the stuff I could buy. My wish list is awesome whereas my purchase ability is not.
Me too! Amazon has everything and I want so much of it delivered to my door in 5-7 business days.
How can one’s uterus NOT be large if one has grown babies in there? I call foul. And as a SAH mom blogger, I feel have the credentials to back up my foul-calling.
I know, right? I’m surprised she didn’t say that it felt tired, because it’s worked hard.
Really, why do our doctors even try to make small talk when they’re between our legs?? All I want to do is melt into the eyes of the adorable little kitty cat (wearing a Little House on the Prairie bonnet and sitting in a wicker basket) in the tiny, obviously-ripped-from-an-old-calendar picture that some kind soul has tacked to the ceiling above the torture-table they call a “bed” to take my (admittedly brain-damaged and sleep-deprived) mind off the fact that some relative stranger is comparing my lady bits to other ladies whose bits might be way more pretty/voluptuous/awesome than mine… Also, damn you for reminding me I need to make an appointment for that dreaded annual visit. Take care of that big ole’ uterus of yours; I’m guessing it’s done you proud and totally deserves a spa day. Or two.
You are so right! I’m taking my uterus on a spa day! That big girl deserves a massage.
So…. I’m no certified OB/GYN (hobbyist, at best) but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to feed uteri cupcakes.
Well that would explain its horrible table manners. I was all, “hey, you’re leaving crumbs in my underwear!” and it was all “amanajhajmhum” (not very eloquent, my uterus, but then it was also stuffed full of cupcake).
Thank God I wasnt the only one that noticed that!
That my uterus was extra large? Why Colleen, I’m flattered that you’ve taken notice of my voluptuous womb.
Actually, Scarlett and Ryan Reynolds would have divorced months earlier, but he got lost in her oversized uterus during some makeup sex. She didn’t find him until she went in for a pap smear. But the damage was done. In her mind, he’d been cheating on her all that time he was gone with Anne Hathaway (he has a thing for women who play super heroes/villains) and Ryan, well, he just never wanted to get lost in the Valley of Fibroids ever again. Yes, Scarlett has them also.
Really loooooooove this post and missed you during my blogation. But I’m back and together we will defeat those who persecute the stay-at-home-bloggers!
Welcome back! You were missed.
So were you!
I missed you so much that I don’t even resent that your comment is better than my whole post!
Oh, puleeze. You are brilliant, my dear! And hilarious. And oozing with intelligence. And your posts aren’t 8000 words long. Actually, I am writing shorter posts as of today. This morning’s was just over 700 words and tomorrows is about 1100 before captions and all that photo crediting nonsense.
700 words??? That is madness. Don’t hide your wit under a bushel…unless you are tired and trying to have a life beyond your blog, in which case I toast your 700 words…or at least I will shortly when I read it.
So very funny and witty and dead-on awesome.
Yes you are.