Labored, and Delivered

This past OB clinical was the one I was truly dreading. Labor and Delivery.

The thing about babies is that they come out of va-jay-jays. (Or at least they're supposed to.)

This is just the awkwardness I could really do without. My wife was as unthrilled with the va-jay-jay parade as I was.

My day did not begin well. The entire L&D staff dresses in hospital provided scrubs while they are on the floor--even the unit secretary. Presumably in case they get sprayed with va-jay-jay juice. Have no doubt, there is only one locker room on the floor, a woman's locker room. Thank goodness the staff restroom was separate, and had a lock on the door. After much pomp and circumstance to make sure there was nobody in a state of undress in the locker room, I was escorted in to make my selection of scrubs. XL is what I usually wear, so I grabbed a set and scurried off to the staff restroom to change. I tried the top first, and got it on easily, but when I spied myself in the mirror...

Two front pockets, and a crossover neck. It was then that I realized my hands were slowing going numb and tingly because the sleeves cut deeply into my biceps. (You should have seen the IV access popping up though.)

Next up, pants. Pretty, shapely woman pants, with an elastic waistband panel across the backside. I got them up to mid thigh before my apparently XL-woman's-hips sized legs arrested all upward progress.

I redressed in my uniform. Found an escort, obtained an official Act of Congress, and returned to the locker room to try the XXL's. The tops were the same as the XLs, except with darting in the bust. The XXL pants were so huge, the drawstring literally wouldn't draw enough to tighten around my waist.

I redressed in my unifrom. Again.

And then I was rescued by Lacey, my preceptor for the day. Lacey has been a nurse for only 2 years, but she's sharp as a tack. And lovely, and nice. And merciful. She escorted me to the hospital-wide OR, (where other boys work and they have two locker rooms, one for girls, and one for boys) to get me scrubs.

After I dressed, she whisked me off to the OB/GYN OR to witness my first C-section, and placed me in the care of a CRNA. A fun, crusty old CRNA who kept asking me questions trying to stump me. And I LOVE that! I like the challenge.

I ended up seeing 2 C-sections, and 3 epidural placements. I basically spent the day with the CRNA. In between procedures, Lacey had me palpate a fundus so I could feel what a properly contracted uterus feels like. But other than that, she summarily excused me from all vaginal checks, even lochia checks. Bless her. The only va-jay-jay's I witnessed were when I placed the foleys for the the C-section patients. And I don't know why, but foley va-jay-jay is way different than root-of-life va-jay-jay.

Maybe that makes me, *gasp*, a boy.

I'm glad it's over. My instructor is disappointed I didn't get to see a vaginal birth.

I told her, "I've seen my own 3. I'm good."

She said, "It's different when it's not your own."

I said, "You're right--it would be way more awkward."