Knowing when to let go

The final straw came when she couldn’t find my cervix. That’s right. You know the position: tail scooted all the way down to the end of the examination table, heels in stirrups, knees “relaxed” open. Meanwhile Dr. S. is spending an inordinate amount of time squinting into my vagina as she used the speculum to hunt for my elusive lady part.

Had anyone else ever had any trouble finding my cervix? she asked. Nope. I was 30, had given birth to two children, and heretofore locating my cervix had never been a problem. Until now.

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