His tie was the kind you find on crazy people. Or comedians. Turns out he was both. Except he was also one of the OB/GYN’s in my practice. We were supposed to rotate through all the doctors, since technically, you never knew who would be on call when you went into labor. Somehow, I didn’t get around to meeting Dr. Biden until I was 7 months pregnant.
“Hey there.” He said, sliding his stool in between my open legs. “How’s my girl doing?”
My husband and I exchanged a glance. We had never met this doctor, and he was looking at my vagina. He couldn’t be talking to my vagina, could he? That might qualify as inappropriate.
Wait. Maybe he meant the baby? But we had decided not to find out the sex. We were big into the surprise, no matter how much it irked my grandmother.
“Excuse me,” I interrupted. “Are we having a girl? We don’t know the sex.”
He dramatically rolled his stool away from my open legs and snapped off his rubber gloves. I closed up shop, and sat up, looking at him expectantly.
“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged, “But that’s all I deliver.”
What was he saying? My husband and I looked at him apprehensively.
“Yep. I got two girls at home, and that’s all I deliver.”
Was I in the psych ward? I couldn’t stop staring at his Sylvester and Tweetie tie. Someone was definitely a bit Looney Tunes.
“Okay,” I braved cautiously and slowly. “So… what if I have a boy?”
“He does it.” He pointed to my husband.
“Me?” Howard asked, appalled. You couldn’t take Howard’s pulse, without him getting woozy.
“Yup, you.” He stood up to leave. “Got any other kids?”
“One. A boy.” I answered automatically, still confused and distressed by this entire encounter.
“What’s her name?” He asked, with half his body out the door.
“It’s a boy.” I repeated. “His name is Tyler.”
“Well, she’s going to be a big sister soon!” Wide crazy grin, and he’s out.
“What the hell was that?” I asked my husband.
“That was crazy.” Howard concurred.
“Do you think he was just covering up for accidentally telling us the sex of the baby?”
“I really hope he’s not on call when I deliver.”
March 22, 10:30am.
I got to the hospital already 7cm dilated. Howard ran thru 3 red lights to get us there, which is so impressive for my by the book attorney husband. If I wasn’t about to have a baby, I might just be turned on.
Through major contractions, I struggled to answer the questions required from a nurse who was as impassive as I was aflame. While I grit my teeth and writhed in pain, she apathetically repeated her unanswered question. “Allergies?”
Before I could scream my answer, a new question from a new voice interrupted.
“How’s my girl?” I heard, taking my pain to a whole new level.
My doctor had arrived.
“If you think you’re in pain,” He joked. “Try being shot three times.”
WTF? My face must have been quite the contortion of agony and horrified bewilderment.
“Oh yeah,” he continued, moving to lift his shirt, “want to see my scars?”
“No!” me, my husband and several of the nurses shouted simultaneously.
“Ignore him.” One of the nurses said to us, “He’s always messing around.”
“How bout you and I mess around?” Dr. Biden said suggestively and I think my amazement actually momentarily overrode my contraction.
It went like that for bit, one inappropriate comment after another. We were assured multiple times by the nurses that he was in fact a real doctor. And a good one. When the time came, my baby was out in three pushes.
On the last, I saw the doctor pull back from my body and motion to my husband. “Come here, now.”
My husband, already woozy from just being in the vicinity of a bleeding person, looked as if he were going to pass out. He shook his head.
“Come on, someone has to.” Dr. Biden pulled away from my body further, and there was a beat of panic in the room.
Shakily, Howard moved in, seemingly at the last moment, and brought our baby out into this world. With the help of a nurse, he placed our newborn on my stomach.
“Congratulations! You have a girl!” Dr. Biden announced.
“We have a girl.” I thought, full of emotion and joy.
“Uh, no we don’t.” My husband’s voice interrupted my baby is out of my vagina euphoria. I snapped back to crazy, hormonal new mom.
“What the hell do I have!!!???”
“I’m looking at penis here.” Howard said and we both looked at the doctor wearing his best ‘who me’ face.
“What? I told you, I only deliver girls.”
Happy birthday, my feisty, green-eyed boy with the mischievous smile and fetching charm. You could put the sun out of business, the way you light up a room and warm my heart. You have been the happiest surprise right from the start.
*When I went back to the office at 6 weeks, I heard Dr. Biden was out on medical leave. I’m betting on psychiatric.