The Longest Wait Ever

I had my monthly OB visit yesterday and I am just the teensiest bit frustrated. I actually saw my midwife for less than 3 minutes, and for that privilege I was kept waiting an hour. AN HOUR! Here's the timeline:

3:48 - I arrive a few minutes early, check-in with receptionist and take a seat in the waiting room. I very much would like to use the bathroom, but I can't because I have to save it for my urine sample.

4:05 - The nurse calls me back, drops me off at the restroom to produce my sample then weighs me. She puts me in a room, checks my blood pressure and leaves me alone with the door open.

4:10 - I get bored and begin flipping through Better Homes and Gardens. It should be noted that I don't give a damn about overly styled homes or gardens, but I refuse to read parenting magazines. I don't feel like being pressured to buy 8 different versions of a Fisher Price baby seat. I also don't want to feel like I am raising an idiot if my child isn't fluent in French by age 3.

4:50 - I have now read the entirety of Better Homes and Gardens. I now know: a table can be used for more than a table (a craft station? a nightstand? how shocking!); 'quick and easy' weeknight meals still look incredibly complicated; and that architecture can really affect the feel of your room - really? I never would have guessed that.

I feel like I have been here for a while, so I grab my phone for a time check. Indeed, I have been here for an hour. I had been growing more agitated, intentionally flipping my magazine pages RATHER LOUDLY so that anyone in the hallway can hear my frustration. Passive aggressive? Yes, my mother taught me well. Adding to my irritation I can hear some ladies chatting in the hall and having quite a good time. If you have time to chat you have time to tell me my midwife is running behind schedule.

4:53 - My midwife flies in, looking quite flustered, tiredly muttering an apology for my wait while simultaneously reading my chart, getting gloved up and putting her armful of stuff on the table. She explains she was called in to deliver a baby this morning, and how can I be mad at her? That's pretty much her job. I can only hope that when I am the one hee-hee-hoo-hoo-ing my way through a contraction my midwife won't turn and say "You're doing great, but I have to run back to the office for just a bit." I completely understand that the ladies in labor are the top priority.

4:56 - My midwife is out the door. The following was accomplished in my visit:
- Any nausea, vomiting or bloating? No, no and no.
- Are your ankles swollen? No.
- Let's listen to the heartbeat. It's fine.
- Any questions? Yes, I'll be flying to San Diego for a wedding next week. Anything I should know before I go? Drink lots of fluids and get up to stretch every two hours. I already knew that.

At least I have learned to schedule my appointments at the end of the day. It's awful when you're sitting around, learning how to make origami place cards or whatever, when you know you have to rush back to the office.