Beast of Burden

While working at the goat dairy I used to think the way we handled pregnant goat ladies was a little rough. The vet would come around to ultrasound swollen bellies to find little kid hearts-a-beating one day every year. In an assembly line fashion we would grab goats and practically throw them to the vet who would quickly jab bellies with the ultrasound wand in order to find a small flicker of a new little heart in order to confirm a pregnancy. Thank goodness I'm a human I would think to myself - I'll be treated so much more decently when I'm pregnant. Ha ha - wrong. My hubby and I walked into our first preggo confirmation appointment beaming; ready to be handed a medal and a cookie for doing what all the other cajillions of organisms on earth have also figured out how to do. So, Matt sits in a little chair off to the side as I lay belly up on a sterile table with my feet in the good ole stirrups covered with "Raider" and "49er" covers. This should have been my first clue that maybe we weren't in for much better than a goat poke. What woman wants to be saddled up with football themed leg spreaders while their husbands sit awkwardly in the gallery. Anyways, there we are goofily smiling at each other when our doctor walks in gloved and gooed. Then hubby and I both simultaneously gasp as I am rudely poked not-so-externally without warning. Both horrified the doctor then exclaims "Feels Pregnant!" exuberantly. Hubby then nearly chokes on spittle as he can't contain a sudden outburst of laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation. TOTAL GOAT POKE! I quickly realize that I have officially begun my time as beast of burden - feeling like just another knocked up creature that will be poked unceremoniously by a medical professional to confirm that a viable kid exists. To date things with the OBGYNS (or Obgoblins as I have decided to term them) have not improved. Without words they point to the cold metal table, slap ya down, measure your belly and poke the baby to confirm a sustained viable kiddo exists. The "bing machine" monty python birthing skit is becoming less and less unrealistic. For a special treat, beginning in your 8th month, they begin to grab your child's head and wiggle it around. This feels oh so special and you can feel the baby respond with a violent jerking "what the" reaction. Can't blame the kid - cause I know I love it when people suddenly grab my noggin and roughly wiggle it around. How do you think you might respond? *SMACK* might be a good way to go. All I have to say is thank goodness for friends, family, midwives, hypno-birthing instructors, prenatal yoga instructors, and random hippies who treat you like the baby-making earth goddess of creation you really are. Even if all you did is figure out how to do what cajillions of other creatures have already figured out how to do ;)