The Monday after I took the home pregnancy test, I called my gynecologist’s office. I figured she’d want to see me right away to confirm that I was really pregnant. After all, the drugstore tests could be wrong, right?
That is not how it works.
My doctor did not want to see me until I was 8 weeks pregnant, which would be the week of Thanksgiving, and she was totally booked. The earliest she could see me was the Monday after the holiday.
I started crying on the phone with the scheduler. “This is my first one! I’m freaking out! What am I supposed to do?” I cried. Politely, she told me I could ask the nurses my questions, and I could see my general practitioner for another pregnancy test.
So I got on the phone with a nurse, who was not as patient as the girl at the front desk — and a bit condescending, if I may say so. When I asked her about what I should be eating, specifically about fish, she replied, “Well, uh, there’s mercury…” Basically, she was no help.
Thankfully, my G.P. was able to see me on Tuesday. I was surprised that they had me pee in a cup; I assumed it would be a blood test. As we waited for the results, I didn’t feel nervous. I knew they would be positive. And they were.
The doctor came in to chat with us, and she was as personable and reassuring as ever. JB and I had printed a list of questions from the internet, and she happily answered every one, even answering some we hadn’t thought to ask. When we walked out of the office, she congratulated us again.
Now that it was official, we stopped at Barnes & Noble to buy “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” Oddly, I was prepared to tell the cashier that the book was a gift for a friend if she asked me when I was due.
I wondered: Was denial was of the things to expect?