A Good Change
After not seeing my Ob (OB/GYN) since my six-week check after the boys were born, it seemed only appropriate that I finally make time for my annual. The boys will be two in February after all.
You may have read in an earlier post that we were surprised to find out we were having twins around twenty weeks. And we were even more surprised when I delivered the babies just twelve weeks later (you can read more here). Many parents will agree that the day your child, or children, is born is seared into your memory forever. There is some haze and a little disorganized details, but the emotional charge around the event is there forever.
When my water broke surprisingly at thirty-two weeks, I was relieved to hear my doctor’s calm words, “I’m not worried.” I trusted her. I was fortunate that Friday night, when my water broke, she was just clocking in for her weekend shift. She was with me that night when my husband and I were scared for the lives of our boys we hadn’t had a chance to know yet. She was with me on Saturday when I was progressing naturally and delivered the boys. And she was with me on Sunday ensuring that I was healthy and recovering, even though I was removing alone without my new babies. I formed a strong connection to her, the nurses, even the building over that weekend. These were the people and place that successfully led me through my most challenging life experience.
You can imagine my devastation when our insurance changed, and I can no longer deliver at that hospital. I now have insurance that requires me to deliver at a different hospital with new doctors. I won’t have the comfort of the doctor and the practice who I trust so whole heartily.
I scheduled this appointment with my Ob because I wanted her opinion on concerns for a second pregnancy and recommendations for a new Ob. Pulling into the parking garage at West Penn, I felt my body tense. I’d driven to this hospital once, sometimes twice a day, during the thirty two days my boys were in the NICU and Pediatric unit. I know this hospital well. My heart even pumped faster as I walked past the hospital concierge, whom I passed by daily. And as if none of this was a big deal, I checked in for my appointment and waited like everyone else.
And it was no big deal. The appointment was pleasant and benign. I felt a huge adrenaline let down when the appointment was over, and I pulled out of the parking garage. I cried for no reason other than my own emotional connection to the building and what it represents to me. I was happy to meet a friend and fellow twin mom for lunch. I don’t know if she realized the power of her words and how impactful they were to me, but they truly are, “Maybe this will be a good change for you.”
I have always describe myself as change resistant, but I think my friend is right. I think this change will be good for me.
