Another Reason I Hate Numbers

5 Nov

I woke up Monday morning, got the kids up/dressed/fed/ect, and safely in the school doors. Then I came home, fed the dogs and went to grab a cup of hot chocolate. I’ve been trying to drink hot chocolate as a way to keep warm and to be good. See, the amount of sugar that I put in my coffee is ASTRONOMICAL – it even makes Scott gag – so I figured that hot chocolate would at least warm me up and would be much less sugar than the coffee was.

But no caffeine in the morning? Sucks.

Anyway, I just happened to glance at the calendar to make sure that it had been switched to November and lo and behold, what did I see?

Randi OBGYN 10:20 AM (as if I’d go at 10:20 PM)

Oh shit.

I’d had sex the night before.

Are all women like me and don’t want to have sex the night before going to the OB for a pap? I’m notorious for looking at Scott days ahead of time and telling him that there is no way Mr. Winkie is going to be finding any damn tunnel because I have to get spread, poked and prodded by my gyno the next day.

But the damn calendar betrayed me, and there I was. This meant, of course, that I dump the hot chocolate and immediate take a long HOT shower. And pray. Pray a lot.

The appointment time came and it was fairly busy there. I was guilty of not seeing my OB in two years – not good considering the family history I have. The nurse took me back and started to ask me all the same questions. What meds are you on, how are you feeling gynocologically today (I should’ve answered something smart-ass there, but words eluded me for once), ect.

And then the moment I always dread.

“And I see you have two living children.”

“You know,” I said, “I just told my husband the other day that it’s difficult when someone asks how many pregnancies I’ve had because I have to say 5.”

“Notice that I actually glossed over that question,” she said.

Is she kidding me? “Two living children”. Yeah, that’s much better.

The simple fact of the matter is that I have had five pregnancies. And saying that number actually makes me feel shameful. It makes me feel like I wasn’t a good enough mother to hold onto those babies, even though my head knows that it has nothing to do with my mothering skills.

But I remember them. I remember those three little lights that never got the chance. I often feel like I’m the only one who does.

I have a tattoo of morning glories on my leg with a hummingbird hovering near them. When the tattoo artist created the tattoo, which was to be a tribute to my grandmother, he put three morning glories on it. I never asked him why he chose three – I guess he just liked the way it looked.

But sometimes, like now, I wonder if there was a higher power guiding his hand when he designed the tattoo with three flowers on it.


3 Responses to “Another Reason I Hate Numbers”

  1. Finn November 5, 2009 at 4:54 pm #

    I know how you feel. Perhaps some higher power did have a hand in your tattoo. I’d like to think so.

  2. Jenera November 5, 2009 at 4:58 pm #

    I always feel weird with the question of how many pregnancies. I had the one miscarriage and I don’t think it will ever leave me. When Sam was born just a day before the 1 year mark, I was a bit of a wreck. Happy and sad at the same time. This year I don’t look forward to that day either.


  3. Jennifer November 6, 2009 at 6:33 pm #

    I would most defiantly say a higher power.

    I refuse to DTD the night before a gyno appt!!! That’s just weird…

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