Captain Hippie Pants

Alright, folks.. it appears that it is time to let you in on one of my favorite OB moments. (that is your warning to stay away and read no further if you want to protect yourself:)

So when pregnant with Number One everything is so new and fresh and exciting and some things you really want to share with your hubby. While these seem vitally important to you, however, at times they seem less than that to your hubby. At one particular point in our pregnancy I really wanted Matt to come with me to our OB check-up and coaxed him into coming to a regular appt. Yipppeeeee! We got there and went into our room with the Dr. Matt immediately dubbed “the hippie” and when she asked if I had any questions I said yes: I was wondering if there were any beauty products I should steer clear from, as I had read a few articles about certain ingredients in common beauty products being harmful. That’s when the magic happened…

Captain Hippie Pants (Dr. Captain Hippie Pants to you) said, “Yeah I wouldn’t use soap down there. Just rinse it with water and then (using a circular motion pointed at her whoo ha) grab a blow dryer and air dry.” This would have been enough but why risk my spouse ever coming to the OB with me again? For the first time in the appointment she looks his way, and threw this one in to seal our doom, “Yeah you should try it too! I always tell the ladies and then the men get curious and try it themselves and end up loving it!”

I’m sorry did you just point your hypothetical blow dryer at my husbands crotch? Do you have any idea how much therapy my sweet introverted hubby is going to need to get the image you just burned onto his retina to go away. For three months following I found him rocking in the corner clutching the blow dryer yelling NOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Who knew that the most scarring part of my first pregnancy would not be that I threw up all day, everyday, for the first half or even the multiple trips to the emergency room for IVs, but the routine OB appointment where Matt would walk out speechless and permanently altered, without even a picture of his sweet baby girl to console him in his time of need.

We ended up switching doctors for the second baby, but I cannot for the life of me remember why.

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4 Responses to Captain Hippie Pants

  1. ah ha ha ha ha!!!!!!! gotta love those crazy lady part docs.

  2. Suellen says:

    It’s like we are leading parallel lives. Our midwife with #1 gave us a worksheet with pictures of sexual positions for women who are very pregnant. We called one of them “scissors.” Then she gave us a speech and another worksheet about perineal massage with the thumb to stretch the perineum for the month before delivering. She encouraged the husband to be the stretcher. Aaron almost passed out.

  3. Katie says:

    After we (rather I) had our second child, which was my first c-section, I was in the bathroom and needed help standing up. I asked for the nurse, who barely spoke English. She came into the bathroom, said “Nothing up BAGINA fo’ 6 week!” and It was awful, but we can laugh about it now. Sort of.

  4. Amy Gower says:

    Laughing tears streaming down my face…

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