So what I'm hearing you say is...

Dr. Rothtard

My regular gynecologist's office doesn't house anyone who works in obstetrics so I was referred to Dr. Roth. I read about him online and he seemed like a pretty good choice for the most part. He went to a good medical school. He’d been delivering babies for years. He seemed alright so I made an appointment. Waiting for the appointment day to arrive was pretty difficult, because despite having urinated on several sticks, I wanted the confirmation that there was in fact, a little Nino growing in me.


I don’t remember why I started calling him Nino. I just started doing it and it stuck. We also call him The Teeny Tine, Bean McQueen, The Raisin, and Martian. The pregnancy itself goes by the name, “El Nino.” Hence the blogspot address. You might also be asking why I keep referring to Nino as "he". I just think he’s a boy. I’m not really sure why, I just do. I’m 100% sure in fact. Franny, Ahr, and my whole entire family, other than my aunt Deena, think it will be a girl. I’m not really sure why. They probably just want another little me in the universe :)


Finally, the day of the appointment arrived. I went back to the exam room and Roth confirmed I was probably about 8 weeks along. He then brought a small hand-held ultrasound machine into the room. He turned off the lights and I started thinking “wow, am I really going to see The Raisin in there?” He started rubbing the ol goo all over and an image popped up on the screen. I had no clue what in the hell I was looking at. Cloudy chaos was all I saw. Roth wasn’t talking at all. And he kept checking the same place over and over again. I finally said “you’re freaking me out.” That’s when he said, “oh, well the pregnancy is probably right here in this region. I’m just more worried about this giant mass stuck to your ovary. Do you have pain on your right side at all?” I kind of thought it was weird that I had to ask him to tell me what was going on, and that he didn’t even say anything good at all.

This is what my brain thought: “WTF, dude? Worried about a mass on my ovary? Really? Sounds great. You fucktard. Tell me what is going on!!!!”

This is what my mouth said: “Uhhhh kay. I have more pressure on my left actually. Is this bad for the kid?” To which he responded “nah.”

(I thought I'd spare you guys from seeing my actual uterus, so I drew a diagram.)

Basically, I left wondering if I had a horrible disease, but even more unsettling was the fact that I wondered whether I was even pregnant. Roth never actually confirmed anything. He just kept saying "probably" this and "probably" that. He didn’t even prescribe any prenatal vitamins, or ask me if I smoke, or tell me to stop eating Feta. The only thing he was sure about was that I had a gigantic ovarian cyst.I made a follow-up appointment for a week later to have another ultrasound done. This time, with a more precise machine. Luckily I’m not totally retarded and I’d already changed my diet and begun taking a prenatal supplement. I had access to plenty of books, the clickernet, and chicks with kids. I was confident in my knowledge, but at a complete loss about everything else. I started looking for a new doctor.