Realization

This afternoon, I took my son Eli to a birthday part for his friend Gavin, a boy in his preschool class. Gavin’s mom, Carrie, is a doctor. I had met her a couple of times, but honestly I am more familiar with their nanny, so I don’t know the mom, Carrie that well.

Today at the party, I was talking to Gavin’s mom and told her that I just booked Eli’s birthday party next month and told her to keep the date open. She said, “Okay, that’s good to know because I usually work Saturdays.” I asked in what office she worked. (I didn’t even know what kind of a doctor she was.)

She answered, “Women’s Clinic of Johnson County.”

Me: “Really? You’re an OB/GYN? That’s where I go.”

Gavin’s Mom Carrie: “Who’s your doctor?”

Me: “Dr. Lofton.”

GMC: “I’m surprised I’ve never seen you before. I’ve seen a lot of her patients.”

That’s about the time a light bulb went on in my head. My eyes got wide and my mouth dropped open. It was the same look you get on your face when you’re watching a murder movie and you figure out who the killer is. Except my realization was:

THIS WOMAN HAS SEEN MY VAGINA!!

I can’t believe I didn’t remember her before now, but at that moment it came flooding back to me. I was at the end of my pregnancy with Georgia, and my doctor decided to go run a marathon in Paris (I seriously could have killed her for doing that when I was 36 weeks pregnant), and sent me to her partner – the new doctor, Carrie. CARRIE! Gavin’s Mom!

Obviously Carrie did not remember me. After all, she saw me for two appointments two years ago. So what did I say? I said, “Hmmm. I can’t recall that I’ve ever seen you in that office before.”

Denial is a beautiful thing. It’s much less awkward than socializing with a woman who has had her hand up my vajayjay.