The worst possible time to suggest more kids.

IMPORTANT NOTE: This story took place 15 months ago. (Every time I write a story about pregnancy, people think I'm pregnant now. I am NOT pregnant).

BACKGROUND STORY:
Because of some possible complications with Ruby's heart beat, I was given the option of "being monitored for several hours and then possibly being induced, or being induced right then. Since I was super excited to 1) not be pregnant anymore and 2) meet Ruby (sadly enough, probably my excitement was in that order at the time), I opted to just be induced.
For me, the pitocin didn't do much. They started running it and for hours nothing happened. "How's your pain level on a scale of 1-10?" the nurse would pipe in every half hour. I just stared at her blankly, "Uh, Is this supposed to hurt? Don't feel a thing." Camm and I just sat and played online scrabble--trying to pass the time until the action started.
After several hours of no pain whatsoever the doctor came in and broke my water. It was like she flipped a switch "PAIN ON NOW!" Immediately I was writhing, throwing up and thinking that maybe I should have opted not to be induced. It was in the midst of this writhing that the anesthesiologist finally came in with the epidural (I'm not one who had any desire to do it "naturally"--I think pregnancy was enough drawn out pain--we didn't need a climax of pain at the end).
"Oh, hi Miriam?" he said so causually--as if he didn't notice that I was vomiting all over, "It's so good to meet you." I realized then that he was a little bit more chatty than I was hoping he'd be.
Nonetheless, I was happy he had come in to put me out of my pain, "Yes, thanks for coming!" I gasped in between contractions, "Can't wait to get this shot."
"So is this your first child?" he said slowly, as if he had all the time in the world.
"Ya," I let out, hoping that would be the end of his questions.
"Oh how great! The first kid! So it looks like your baby will be a red head!" he said so slowly.
I looked at my blonde husband stroking my brown hair, "Uh, yeah whatever." Couldn't this guy hurry up I'm dying over here?
"That'll be nice to have a red head! So is it a boy or a girl?" I guess he really likes to chat.
"Girl," I could't handle all the questions. My already thin patience was almost gone.
"Oh excellent! You'll have a built in babysitter for all the rest of your kids! That'll be so great when you do this many more times," he sounded genuine, but it was the last thing I wanted to hear.
"Look guy! I really want that shot, and just a little FYI--there won't be any other kids!"

So, now 15 months later, I think I should write this guy a letter, here goes.
THERAPEUTIC LETTER:

Dear Mr. Anesthesiologist Guy,
I really appreciated the shot that you gave me. It made me feel wonderful. I'm sorry I was short with you during the conversation leading up to it. Sometimes it is hard for a woman writhing in pain to feel like making a new friend. I hope you can forgive me.
Sincerely,
Miriam
PS--In the future, don't tell a woman in labor that this is the first of MANY experiences like that. If she were to have even slightly more energy than I had at the moment, she may have slap you straight across your face. Consider this your warning.

Am I out of my mind to think this guy should know better? After all, he deals with women like this every day - that's his job!

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