Labor Pains

I find it excessively painful to listen to other women's labor stories.  They always tell their story as if they're the only woman in the world who had 36 hours of labor followed by an episiotomy and a failed epidural.  blah blah blah.  I just nod my head and smile politely, thinking of all the things I'd rather be doing than picturing this woman in the throes of "the worst labor ever experienced in the history of womankind." 

Actually, I'm going in to the hospital tomorrow morning to have this baby (Anjali).  My husband is working at the hospital I'm going to deliver in and is planning on making rounds that morning.  I thought that was a good idea because I really don't know what he will do while I'm having contractions and such.  Give me ice chips?  Rub my back?  Paleeeze.  I'd rather go it alone.  I mean, do you really think it would help me to have an ice chip???  All I want is the epidural.  That's it.  And when I start pushing he can stand by my bed and say "Push!  One, two, three, four. . . "    That would be most helpful.  I just may forget how to count while I'm trying to squeeze this precious angel out.

Do I sound cynical?

I'm really excited for my sister, who is on her way home from Russia with her two newly adopted sons.  It's like we're having our children on the same day. . . My parents are getting three grandchildren in two days.  Now they will have 11 grandchildren with another due in October.  Lucky them!

 

 

For anyone out there that says doctors don't work hard, come meet my husband. Yesterday he left for work at 6:00 am and got home after midnight. He was exhausted and kept getting pages during the night about the same patient. This morning he left at 6:00 and won't be home until around 7:00 or 8:00 pm. He hasn't even seen Priya in two days. I hate his hours! When I have this baby he can only get two days off work. I know, I know, I shouldn't complain (especially with all those doctor haters out there), but hey, what are blogs for?

On a lighter note, I love my job. I get to work mornings only and take call from home. I don't have any hospital duties, which is a BIG bonus. There are only two other docs in our practice (both female) and the staff is wonderful. My nannies take incredible care of Priya and they will stay on even with the added work load of the new baby! You can't get any better than that!

I'm also seeing a lot of interesting medicine here that I didn't see in North Carolina. I enjoy seeing the younger patients in addition to the elderly and researching new diagnostic delimnas (of which there have been a few). My problem is admitting to patients that I need to "do a little research." I usually do it right in front of them (does that make me look stupid?). They seem to appreciate the effort, though. At least I'm not winging it. . . I do, however miss my nurse from North Carolina. I would pay her one million dollars to move here and join this practice. Will you Regina? Please?

The President on a Scooter

Did you know pregnancy causes strange dreams? I think I should win some contest for the absolute weirdest ones. And if anyone wanted to figure out what my dreams mean I'm in real trouble.

I seem to always dream about famous people. Not necessarilly people I like or admire, but just famous people. For instance, I've been shopping with J.Lo, out to lunch with Gwyneth Paltrow (pre Apple), deep sea fishing with Britney Spears, and to breakast with George W. Bush. Last night, though, was a classic. I was at a campground driving my winnie looking for some clothes (I was partially clothed - go figure) and it was real crowded. Who should happen to ride by on his red, white, and blue scooter (on the wrong wide of the road) but George W. Bush. He had that real vacant look in his eye that he had throughout the entire "Farenheit" movie (and for the last four years to be exact). The kicker of it was when along came Laura Bush looking for him. Anxious to scoop him into the car before anyone caught sight of him. Like I said. I dream about famous people, not necesarilly people I like.

The other night we watched the first episode of "The Amazing Race 5." Of all the reality shows out there The Amazing Race is by far the best. We've watched every single episode of the first four races. I always wonder what I would do in those situations. Probably loose my cool, have a meltdown in front of 5 million viewers and regret it the rest of my life. Which is why I didn't apply for the race. I'm sure they would have signed my right up if I had. . .
My mom and sister are in Russia getting my sister's two adopted sons. Yesterday they went through the court process and now the boys are legally hers. I'm so glad. I had spent most of Wednesday morning trying to get in touch with them and was told repeatedly by the clerk at their hotel that they were "in the res-ta-ront." After two hours of that I was told they had "left with some people." It was 10:45pm there! I was highly suspicious because I had my doubts that they would be cruising the downtown of that somewhat small Russian town. So I sat there thinking about all the things they could be doing until I became genuinely worried. Luckily, my sister called my dad and told him they were fine and had been in their room the whole time. Hmmmmm
Tomorrow I have my appointment with my OB. I'm hoping he'll proclaim me "ready to give birth" right then with a short easy labor. And I'll go to the hospital and get an epidural and sail through the contractions without a hint of pain. Theyn I'll push three or four times until little Anjali is born and found to be completely healthy. If only it worked that way. . .
Women always ask me if I'm going to have my baby "naturally." What exactly do they mean by that? How do you have a baby "unnaturally?" I always want to say "No, I thought I'd pop her out my ear. . . " And if I reply "yes, this will be a natural birth" (complete lie) they say "good for you!" Like I would endure that kind of pain for their approval. Geeezzz.

Okay, we've done it. This time it's final. We've finally come up with a name for our daughter. Anjali. It is pronounced Un-ja-lee. Yay! It's about time. I will likely have her in about two weeks and I didn't want her to be nameless. Or be called Quazar.
We're visiting my in-laws this weekend and having a really relaxing time. My brother-in-law ran in a 10K run this morning and is hoping they post his picture on the front page of the paper tomorrow. He was only one of 55,000 runners and certainly didn't run the race in 28 minutes, like the winner from Kenya did. But he is still optimistic. . .
And Priya keeps adding words to her vocabulary. Now she can say "shoes, Papa, Bye-Bye, Uh-Oh, and apple". Her Dada (grandfather) claims she can say "Big Bird" too but I haven't heard it yet. That's probably because her favorite book is about Big Bird and we read it to her roughly 43 times a day. She is signing up a storm and added a couple of signs this weekend. I think that brings her to 28 or so signs. Not that I'm counting and comparing her to other 15 month olds or anything. I'm not THAT competitive! Hee Hee
My brother-in-law said he is disappointed in my blog. "It's just like a newsletter or something" as if anything I had to put in my "newsletter" wasn't interesting. Which it really isn't, but that's beside the point. Anyway, I bet if I start posting pictures of him coming across the finish line with his weary hands held high in full victory from his 10K run he would like my blog. Anyone can be blackmailed.