I went to an OBGYN appointment today just for a normal check-up. I sat down on the cold metal table and was slammed with the memories of sitting here last year. Right after we received the diagnosis. I remember asking her for suggestions, options, pleading for a miracle.
I don't usually cry around people but this woman and I have walked a special journey together. We were fortunate to have her deliver both of our boys and complete a needed surgery right after our second was born with a supportive and efficient nature. When I walked into the exam room today I was slammed with last year but I also remember our first visit when we initially found out we are pregnant. Daniel was sitting in the corner, next to a drop down curtain, shoulders hunched over in his button down work shirt, sleeves characteristically rolled halfway up his forearms, hands hanging between his spread legs as he played on his phone. I remember his excitement over the possibility of us having a child. The calmness he brought me at that moment.
The grief of those memories strike you at the oddest times. Racing through my head were our deliveries. Him holding my hand. Him being the strong one when we found a tumor on my ovary while pregnant with our youngest son. Him laughing with our Obstetrician. Him being amazed by the pictures of the tumor after surgery. Him shouting it’s a boy! Twice.
He would not have gone with me today to an annual visit but I felt his presence. I miss him so deeply. All triggered by a single doctor appointment.
Meet the Author (me)
Driven by a need to help others. I have known from a young age that this is what I wanted to do. This is my very real, somewhat sarcastic, look into my newfound widowhood. I hope this site will help you as much as it helps me.