I just finally registered here today, following an absolutely nerve-wracking experience yesterday...
I’m 9 weeks pregnant, and right when my home test turned positive, my social worker was finishing up her last day before vacation. My sister managed to book me an appointment for yesterday—my first chance to see someone after that break. In the meantime, I couldn't sit still, so I went to a private clinic to confirm everything with an FBI ultrasound (both 2D and 4D); they gave me a DVD and everything else was perfectly handled.
Yesterday started off fine enough—they handed me a cup and a urine strip immediately... and then the disaster began.
First, I spent 20 minutes waiting outside the exam room, not because of another patient, but because the doctor was busy chatting with a specialist who was visiting him. When I finally got inside, he actually acted surprised when I told him which week I was in! ???(A) He knows I’m a medical doctor; B) even if I weren't, the internet is full of useful info and pregnancy calendars; C) honestly, I have a standard calendar and, thank God, I know how to count.
Then came the bimanual exam—palpating the uterus with both hands. He squeezed me so hard that I had this awful discomfort lasting until this morning, feeling like my period was about to start at any second (though by 14 or 16 weeks, palpating like that doesn't make much sense since you can really only feel a softer uterus and a firm cervix). Then he says, "Let's do the ultrasound."
My husband was waiting right outside the office, and I politely asked if he could see the baby, but the doctor shot me down instantly. He claimed that for a vaginal scan, nobody gets to watch—not even a husband—and MAYBE he'd allow it once we switch to abdominal scans later on. (Of course, my husband was present for that exact same type of exam back at the private clinic). Fine, I thought, he has the right to set the rules in his own practice. However, the actual placement of the probe was so "pleasant" that I felt like he was shoving it right against my cervix. To make matters worse, he wouldn't turn the monitor toward me. I was terrified, thinking maybe the heart wasn't beating or something. Finally, when he turned the screen, I saw my little one—I saw that tiny flicker that looked like a heartbeat, though the yolk sac looked slightly smaller than it did two weeks ago (by coincidence, I actually tried to study ultrasound mechanics back in med school). Meanwhile, the specialist just sits there in silence. Then, he struggled to take measurements—he spent 20 minutes fumbling with the probe while searching for cursors and trying to figure out how to connect them. When he finally managed it, he told me the size matched 8 weeks instead of 9. Luckily, I know things are relatively fluid in the first trimester, so a 3mm difference isn't worth pulling my hair out over. Well, not mine—I wanted to pluck his like a crazed hen!
He eventually handed over the requisitions for bloodwork, urine tests, and my blood type and sent me to the nurse. She took my blood pressure and weighed me, but only after I insisted. That urine sample from earlier? Nobody cared about it. And I didn't even get a printout or photo from the ultrasound!
I was so livid that it wasn't until I was going to bed last night that I realized he forgot to validate one of my referrals, and more importantly, I DIDN'T GET MY MATERNITY HANDBOOK!!!???
I remember reading on one of the threads here that this particular doctor isn't highly regarded, but in my previous routine check-ups, he had always been extremely polite and professional.
