OMG, Pink and teddy bears!

Here is a piece of information you maybe could have done with out: I hate the OBGYN.

The excess of pink and cartoon teddy bears make me nearly as uncomfortable as the whole exam part. People, these woman are having kids, that doesn’t mean they are kids.

I hate that you’re pretty much required to go. It’s so condescending. Men aren’t required to go to some doctor to check out their private business. It’s figured that generally they got that shit under control. But, no, us ladies, we need special help. Pink special help.

I hate that when you do go but you’re not popping a kid out, it’s oh-my-god-so-boring. The doctor is bored. You’re bored. No one wants to be here. Just like how no one wanted to sit through high school sex ed either.

And, I hate, that because you’re the boring-not-popping-a-kid-out patient, you have to spend even more time sitting in the pink waiting room. I hate that the magazines are all Parenting and Gardens. Naturally, ovaries mean people lose the capacity to care about anything but babies and flowers and cartoon teddy bears.

I hate that when you finally do see the doctor for the less than ten minutes, condescending, required exam, they want to bond and paint toenails and share Cosmo details. And give you a mini-high-school lecture. Shit, woman, if I wanted to be educated (or make friends) I’d take community college classes. And — as a side point — no, I do not want to switch to whatever fancy new drug you’re pushing this year.

Then, you think, well you only have to go once a year. It’s not that bad. But, I did the math (I know, it was hard, I had to surpress my feminine hormones in order to be able to add) and I figured out in my life I’ll spend 3-4 straight days doing this — this, the required yearly bullshit no one wants to be here part, not even the OMG! YOU’RE HAVING A BABY THATISSOAWESOMEYOUMUSTBESOEXCITED part.

I wonder if you could just put your head down, tough it out and get the 96 hours straight done in one go.

5 thoughts on “OMG, Pink and teddy bears!

  1. THe male equivalent is having to attend MULTIPLE Miss Teen or Miss Pre Teen pagents. We’re talking actually witnessing about 50 Jean-Benet Ramsey look alikes doing jazz or interpretive (read: signing the lyrics for the hearing impared except NO ONE is hearing impared). The good news is that after I finished college, I didn’t have to go to these things. Put I logged well over 96 hours enduring this. So there.

  2. seriously, I laughed out loud at “Shit, woman, if I wanted to be educated (or make friends) I’d take community college classes.”

    Why is being my new best friend considered a requirement for a professional interaction? It’s showing up everywhere – the bank, the deli, the bookstore (I almost get it at the bookstore…) It’s getting on my nerves and I LIKE talking to people!

  3. crack me up. When I was pregnant with the twins and saw my OB nearly weekly, I was her best friend. Now that I am 39yo and not having any more kids – it is…boring now and she is bored with me. TRUE! 🙂

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