maniquinYesterday I went to my 36-week OB/GYN appointment. It was time for my vaginal swab. I trimmed and prepped and showered right before. I made sure I was in decent underwear and I even washed my hair -- on my head. I wanted the experience to be pleasant for me and for my doctor.

However, when it came time for the three-second insertion of the large Q-tip, I started to squirm. I cannot believe that I'm a 37-year-old mother of almost two and I'm still too immature to handle a doctor routinely swabbing my vageen -- let alone handle a full exam. I always considered my vagina to be outgoing. Some might say even obnoxiously friendly. So, what's my deal?

I even act uncomfortable when I'm getting ready for the exam. They tell me to take off my clothes from the waist down and as I stand there bottomless, I feel stupid. Why? I'm in a doctor's office with a closed door and they see women's nethers all day long.

When she swabs me, I wonder if she is judging me because I'm trimmed down there. Would she judge me if I weren't? I look at her face and try to translate her expressions. Should I be looking at the ceiling instead maybe? Is she thinking about me? Do vagina landscapes help her determine what kind of person I am on land? Logically, I know she will never even remember. She probably doesn't even think about it. There's no way. How can she keep track of all of those vaginas? Why would she even want to? My vagina is so self-centered to think that she even cares about it.

I have always been this way at the OB/GYN. It's like how people have that fear of the dentist. Seinfeld was an anti-dentite. Remember? Maybe I'm an anti-gynite. But I like my doctor, so really it's my vagina that's prejudice.

I was like this during my last pregnancy, too. During labor my vagina became an anti-nursite. Every time one came to check my dilation, I would close my doors like my mother in the '70s trying not to let the heat out in the winter.

You would think it would be like public speaking. The more you do it, the more relaxed you become. My vagina should be giving speeches to stadiums by now, but it's still stuck backstage puking.

In two weeks, my doctor has to go in and check my cervix for my final exam before birth. I'm dreading it, but I'm trying to snap out of it. No pun intended.

Is anyone else shy downstairs?


Image via chiaraeffe/Flickr