A Trip to the Pediatrician- My New Twilight Zone

Everything about being a new mom takes some adjusting. Waking up in the middle of the night to do something other than pee, feeding another human being from something that used to be considered a "private" part, and now, even going to the doctor is weird. I love Tenley's pediatrician and even though the experience of visiting his office and everything that goes with it is strange, it's not a bad strange...just different. I don't know if anyone else feels the same way, but below I will try to state my case.

First of all, any time I get a call from them the (very perky) receptionist says, "Hi! Is this Tenley's mom?" and it always catches me off guard. In a way it is kind of cute, but in another I want to say that, "Yes, but although I am Tenley's mom I do have a name and it is Chrisanne Terry. Just because I am now a mom does not mean that I have lost all sense of who I am other than a mother. Do I call your office and, when you answer, say 'Hi! Is this Tenley's doctor's receptionist?' See my point?" Now, I realize that this may seem petty and I am incredibly proud to identify myself as Tenley's mom. But what if I wasn't Tenley's mom? What if I died unexpectedly and Tenley's grandma answered? Then there would have to be a long, awkward conversation about how Tenley's mom succumbed to food poisoning after one too many Big Johns and, unfortunately, is no longer available. That could all be avoided if I was asked for in another manner.

Next, whenever I go to the office, everyone in there is BEYOND happy. Like, when you walk in the door, you feel like it is the place where rainbows are born. And maybe even where smiley faces were invented. Everyone is just so positive and nice. I could probably bring my kid in there covered in head-to-toe vomit and they would be like, "Hey there! I hope you're having a sunshiney day!" I enjoy this positive attitude because it may be the only place left in the world where it exists. I also love it that they want to take Tenley's picture every time she comes in. I wish I could get in on the action as well so we could have a mother/daughter photo shoot every three months. Once we are taken care of, we are directed to sit in the "well child" area so that we don't have to be next to the sickies. I really appreciate it but, in all honestly, there is a half wall that separates the healthy kids from the not-so-healthy ones and you can't tell me that when the sick kids are called back to the rooms they don't wipe their snot all over the toys on the way there. I am saying this because one day my Tenley will be the sick kid and, if she's anything like her father, she'll touch every single square inch of that place before getting to where she's SUPPOSED to go.

Once you finally make it into a room, they ask you to undress your baby down to the diaper so that they can be weighed and measured. Already teaching them that the less they have on, the more favorable the number on the scale. Then they want you to hold their head against the top of the scale so that they can be measured which is like trying to control a puppy...all wiggles and no cooperation. And heaven forbid you don't hold her and get an inaccurate measurement- then you feel like your child must be a dwarf because they only grew a quarter of an inch in two months. (True story- that happened to me between months 2 and 4- thankfully today I did it right and she grew and inch and a half since last time...now she MUST be a giant. I'm already contacting scouts for a basketball scholarship). Once the all important weight/height/head measurements are done and you are assured that your baby is getting fat like they're supposed to, they banish you to a room to wait for the doctor. And wait. And wait. By the time he finally arrives, your baby has gained another pound from eating again and then pooping.

Once the doctor arrives, he walks into the room and does this thing like, "Hey...oh, HEEEEEEEEEYYYYY" like he didn't recognize you and then realized that you are a long lost friend. I know that he doesn't know me and rightfully so- he sees dozens of kids every day. The thing that cracks me up the most is that he then proceeds to say, "I can't believe ______ is 6 months already!" I leave a ____ there because he hasn't consulted his computer yet for her name or whether she is a boy or girl and since she doesn't have the all important hair bow on or any clothes to give away her gender, he kind of glosses over the he/she part. But I am ok with all of this because he is awesome and so much fun to talk to. He then goes through the appointment and answers any questions with either "That's totally normal" or "Uh huh, Uh huh (big smile)" if I give him an answer he likes. I should throw a couple of trick questions in there some time. For example:

Me: Tenley's poop has been pea green a lot lately, is that OK?

Dr.: That's totally normal

Me: I just started feeding her sweet potatoes- is that an OK first food?

Dr.: Uh huh, uh huh

Me: I've been thinking about going scuba diving with sharks while Tenley is strapped to my back for a little Mommy/Baby bonding time

What do you say to THAT???

Once we are all finished, the doctor tells me that I'm doing everything perfectly (he's such a boost for my ego) and that Tenley will be getting more shots. Since she is my daughter, she takes them like a pro with about 2.5 seconds of crying and we are on our way out the door. As the receptionist perkily makes my next appointment, I look forward to the next time I come back because there will be no more shots and this place just makes me want to crap cute balloon animals.

So there you have it. My new Twilight Zone comes in the form of an office full of doctors and perky staff. Nothing too scary, but different nonetheless. Tenley must have enjoyed her experience today, because she is squealing in delight for no apparent reason and laughing hysterically. If I find out that she was injected with rays of sunshine instead of rotavirus, then Tenley's mom is totally making an appointment for herself some time in the near future.