During my delivery with Ella, I knew I was having a C-section. And while I wanted the drama like in the movies of the wife screaming about her water breaking and the husband panicking – forgetting her overnight bag as he flees the house for the hospital and drives erratically – I was glad that I was able to prepare for the big day. Since I knew exactly when I would be going in, I was able to get groomed up. I got my hair dyed, my nails done, my bush whacked. Even with all of that primping, I wasn’t loving the idea that while I was on the operating table in between the epidural and being sliced in half to have a person pulled out of me, my bottom was totally exposed to students that were observing the delivery as part of their student teaching program. As I swung my legs around to get on the table, my entire bottom was in full view. One student began scribbling on his clipboard. I startled him when I yelled – “Hey! Hey! You better not be drawing me.” The poor thing looked at me, looked at his clipboard and looked at me again, while a fellow student slowly peeked over his shoulder to see what in fact he had just done with his pen. He stammered as he replied, “I am not. I am writing some notes.” I harshly replied “Let me see.” He turned his board towards me and there was no drawing, just writing. “Well OK then.” I said and then I made a stern face “No one is allowed to draw me right now. I know you may want to but that isn’t ethical.” Looking back on this, I am certain those poor students are still talking about me as a crazy person. Because who in their right mind would want to draw a pregnant person's crotch? I can't image it would sketch well.
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