Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring. - Leo Buscaglia
I was having a girl's night out about a month ago. There were six of us in all at this coffee house pretending to be playing board games when really we were just gabbing. I don't remember how the subject came up, but someone mentioned accupuncture and how they swore by it for everything from relieving back pain to killing a cold to treating infertility.
Yes, infertility. It turned out that three of the six women had struggled with infertility and/or precarious pregnancies. I don't know what the actual numbers are, but I also find that there are a lot of women bloggers with fertility and pregnancy problems.
Probably deep down, I always somehow knew that I would be a mom. I didn't really think about it much more than that. Not long after Magnum and I got married, the lever went full over to "time to be a mom". And along came Chaco, pretty much by the book. And he was just so much fun, we went and had us a Wolfgang too.
Then came The Dark Times.
We didn't have much problem getting pregnant, but for some reason, staying pregnant became a challenge. I had a miscarriage. Then another. And yet, another. They each made it to about 10 weeks, but then...
During those dark times, I learned a little about just how common a problem it was to (1) get pregnat and (2) stay there. I began to think of my obstetrician having "just another day at the office" when miscarriages happened to her patients.
After that third one, I was in "the back room" yet again. I remember the mobile in that room. No, it wasn't a baby nursery mobile, it was a perfectly balanced stained glass mobile that was very calming as it would slowly turn or not, depending on the air current in the room. It didn't serve any real medical purpose, but someone thought it important enough to put it there, and I appreciate that.
Eventually the nurse practitioner came in to check on me to see if I was recovered enough to go home. I remember how my obstetrician, after she was finished with "the procedure", had abruptly gotten up and left the room without saying much. I figured she had other patients to attend to, as it was another day at the office.
The nurse practitioner told me, "These are really difficult for Dr. K. She had to leave and sit alone in her office for a while, she was so upset". Really? I saw Dr. K in a different light then. I knew she cared, but this showed me that she really Cared.
Not too long after The Dark Times, we had Meego. Hadn't done anything particularly out of the ordinary - no hormones or drugs, no accupuncture. I guess my body, along with the universe, decided The Dark Times were over.
Later, I gave my obstetrician a photo taken during Meego's first day on the earth. She smiled and I saw tears in her eyes.
Another day at the office.