A few months ago I went to my annual checkup at the OB/GYN. I went to a new doctor who was a man, because at this point in my life I don’t care about the gender of the doctor performing the pap test. I care that they’re qualified.
Anyway, the whole drive to my appointment I had an inner dialogue about what I would say if the doctor brought up the topic of having kids, given my age.
Let’s get this out of the way now. I do not, nor will I ever, want kids.
No, I won’t change my mind.
But I had this theory the doctor would give me the look and say, “So, you’re 30 ... you plan on having kids? Because the window is closing.”
I then played out this whole monologue in my head about how I would list off to the doctor the laundry list of reasons (there are about 100,000) why I don’t want to be a mom and that it’s not my sole purpose in life.
I would then get off my proverbial soapbox and kindly ask them to send my birth control prescription to the pharmacy.
This was sure going to happen — in my opinion.
So I’m in the exam room, the doctor performs the pap and then mentions that I start taking 2,000 units of vitamin C.
“Why?” I asked.
“To get your body ready for menopause,” he said.
“… but I’m 30,” I responded (I have since turned 31, call assisted living!)
He didn’t bat an eye.
I have never felt more like an old maid in my life.
Now listen. I call myself old, I act like I’m old. I even go to bed at an early hour. I joke and say I’m a Golden Girl. Just call me Blanche.
But for a medical professional to tell me that I need to get ready for menopause at my age was just too much.
I left and immediately called my mom and sisters and posted about my experience on Facebook and Twitter. I needed reassurance.
Everyone thought this doctor was nuts and that I should find a new OB/GYN, stat.
None of my friends around my age or older have ever had a similar conversation with their doctor. That night I Googled the average age of menopause — it’s 50, like I thought.
So this conversation was 20 years too soon. To make matters worse I got called “ma’am” later that day. PSA: Calling a woman “ma’am” insinuates that she’s old. Want to make her day? Call her miss.
To add more insult to injury, I have received multiple flyers in the mail from AARP since that doctors appointment. I tweeted at AARP and they said they took me off their mailing list. I received another flyer last week.
The funniest part was, the doctor never mentioned the closing window of my child-bearing years. I guess he just looked at my chart, saw I checked off “single” and figured that ship has sailed.
I had stressed myself out and had that whole inner dialogue about not wanting kids for nothing. But apparently I’m passed that and need to worry about “the changes.”
I never did pick up 2,000 units of vitamin C. I have 20 years to do that.