Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Doctor F.

Wow. Today was a completely emotional day. It started off okay and veered to bitterly sad only to end in a hopeful, joyful way.

My prenatal doctor's office happens to be on the 12th floor of the same building that Eva's local pediatrician, Dr. F, is in. I almost didn't go to this dr for pre-natal, knowing that I would have to take that same elevator everyday. But my dr's office is straight off the elevator. I don't look left at all. Just walk straight in. Every time I've taken that elevator for the last 7 months or so I've wondered if this would be the day...would this be the day I went into Dr F's office.

When Eva died she had an appointment booked with Dr F for a few days after her death. When the office called to confirm the appointment the next day I told them we woudln't be needing it because she had died. The caller said 'oh, I'm sorry' and hung up the phone. We never got another call, card or acknowledgement from that office. It is something that has bothered me for over a year and a half. This is a pediatrician's office. Eva was not 80 years old. She was not supposed to die. She wasn't even one year old.

So today as I was waiting for the elevator after my pre natal appointment I felt a strong urge to go to Dr F's office. I did and I talked to the receptionist. The same receptionist who hung up the phone so quickly 19 months ago. I told her it had taken me a year and a half to make it into the office. I told her about Eva and I told her a card would have gone a long way. And postage would only have cost them 52 cents. That I just needed to tell her. Get out how much it bothered me that there was zero acknowledgement from that office about Eva. And that when it happened to another patient, as it surely would, to remember that.

Of course I got emotional when I talked to her and started crying. But I kept my tone level and managed to say everything I needed to say. I left the office and started crying uncontrollably in the hallway. Nobody saw me and I managed to make my way down to the ground floor and out to the truck. Once in the truck I screamed and wailed and cried so many hot tears. I haven't been that emotional for several months. I didn't even know where all this was coming from. I certainly wasn't expecting it even though I knew it would be emotional to go in there. But the pain and rage and unfairness of her death just came crashing down on me again.

After about 20 minutes I was able to gather myself together and put some dark sunglasses on and continue my day. It got surprisingly better after that.

In the afternoon my friend, who was also my midwife for Theo and Eva's birth came over and we talked and cried together. It was really rather okay.

By the time tonight rolled around and I went to prayer meeting I had eaten chocolate and was feeling, amazingly, much better. I feel like this was another thing I needed to deal with. And prayer meeting was really good too. I dealt with emotions surrounding Little J and had a few practice contractions for the big day that is approaching. Those little contractions felt like validation, somehow. That going to Dr F's office was something I needed to do before this little one makes an appearance.

There's just so many unknowns in my life now. So much unchartered territory that I've never travelled before. And the missing is always there. Always hurting me and poking me and prodding me. And all the damn wishing that does no good.

I could go on and on but you've heard it all before and the heartache never stops.


  1. Good for you for confronting that doctors office. I work with animals and we send a sympathy card for every patient who dies, even if it is not at our clinic and even if they have not been in for years. I always figure that this could be the only sympathy card they get for losing a dear friend. Our clients are always appreciative of this small gesture. I cannot believe that a pediatricians office could not easily do the same thing! I am so proud that you were able to get that off your chest and hopefully they can make some easy changes that can give the next grieving family some solace.

    1. Wow. Your clinic sounds great. My mom also has a great vet but a sympathy card for a dear friend is very touching.
      And I am not sure I would have told them about how I felt if Evas pediatrician in the city had not done so much. A card. A CD at Christmas and a memorial gathering a year later for all the patients that have died. Our Dr M is truly amazing. Dr F...not so much. The contrast in one and the other is like night and day. And I am so glad I let them know. Thank you for the comment and the affirmation Graces mom.

  2. Good for you for going in there and talking to that receptionist. Some people's behaviour is just so hard to fathom. I'm glad visiting that office gave you a bit of release - painful release, but somewhat lightening too it sounds...? Thinking of you as 'the big day' approaches.

    1. I know her behaviour was not intentional. It was just thoughtless. And I am glad that there is a chance for change with the next family that has to go through the pain of losing a child.
      And, yes, it was a release. Painful but needed. Thank you for reading and commenting MIFD. Remembering your March Girl as this month draws to a close.

  3. You are amazing! That is so brave and empowering! I'm lucky because our doctor Is a family friend. He even came to our house before she was taken away. My dentist office even sent a card I can't believe your doctors office aghhhh some people

  4. May I say that I am so very impressed that you were able to do that? I can't imagine how emotional that must have been for you and also can't imagine how her pediatrician's office could have acted in such a way. To never even acknowledge her death and your loss? Awful.