Photo by Daquella Manera
(this is not me) :)
Generally, I don't mind not having a cell phone. Yet, the other day, I found myself desperately wishing I could make just one S.O.S call.
Two days ago, I had my first OB visit for this pregnancy. I thought we were going to hear the baby's heartbeat, and a few weeks ago, I remember talking to my husband about this and letting him know it would be nice if he could join us for this visit. In classic his-her miscommunication, I--from then on--assumed he was coming with me to the appointment.
The morning of the appointment, I reminded him of the time and asked him if he wanted me to call him beforehand (so he wouldn't forget). He said, "No, that's ok. Hey, Are you taking the kids with you?" I thought that was strange, since of course, he was coming with us, too, and therefore, what else would I do with the kids? Suffice it to say, I was sure he was coming. He knew he wasn't.
At the doctor's office, after the initial weigh-in, blood pressure check, and visit with the doctor in her office (while two of my boys were crawling on the floor like Army soldiers in a dug-out and then looking curiously at the knick-knacks on her shelf), she informed me that today they would be doing the annual Pap and breast exam. This is when I wanted to make the desperate SOS call to my husband. What would I do with the boys?
Fortunately, the exam room has a small bench in the corner with a curtain one can pull, which drapes from the ceiling to the floor. I told the boys they were going to get to play a really fun hiding game in a secret cave, and that they had to stay in there. This was definitely a mom's in need of mercy situation, and thankfully, for the most part, they did stay behind the curtain.
At one point, the boys removed the water bottle in my purse to take a drink. It was holding a full quart of water. I say "was," because as soon as they were done drinking, the bottle--uncapped--spilled all over the floor. I didn't notice until the doctor came in, because I was sitting on the exam table, wearing the wonderful gown with a sheet wrapped around my waist, thinking over and over again, "Please hurry, please hurry, please hurry." (Those waits can take forever, which is never a good thing when three little boys are in the room, trying to stay excited about hiding behind the curtain. What if they got bored right at the time of the Pap?).
So the doctor finally came in and said, "Oh, there's a lot of water on the floor." She proceeded to get surgical cloths to wipe it up, since she said they hold a lot of water. I did what I could to hand paper towels to the boys under the curtain. I told her we'd be sure to get the rest before we left. She smiled and said, "I bet Daddy's going to be in trouble later."
Also on the bench is a little basket containing feminine products. I'm not sure why boys--little boys--are so fascinated with tampons. I think they think it's like a rocket: push the applicator and out it launches. So my youngest was ejecting tampons for take-off. But again, there wasn't much I could do except tell my other boys to please stop him from doing that.
Well, we survived. I got dressed. One boy happened to peek out of the curtain right as I was getting dressed. I tried to do a quick turn and cover and told him to stay behind the curtain. Luckily, he did as he was told.
At home, I asked my husband why he forgot about the appointment. He cleared up the miscommunication by saying, "I knew you had it. I just didn't know you wanted me to be there." I said, "Well, I only had to have a Pap smear and a breast exam...with the boys in the room."
He brought me cookies as a peace offering.
Next time, we'll hear the baby's heart beat, and I'll be sure my husband comes with us.
What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, I guess.