This post needs a dose of lovely owls!
I think this week is out to get me. Actually, that's completely not true because we had a great day today at a pool party with new friends. Autumn was even social with some girls a few years older than she is! I did, however, get sick afterward, probably from not enough food and getting too hot BUT STILL. It was a good day.
Thursday, though? Oh, it was a day to punch people.
I'm pretty sure I'm going back to my old doctor. I had to stop seeing her when I got pregnant with Garrett because she stopped doing ob not long after Autumn was born. Don't get me wrong, I love the doctor she referred me to. I might not be alive today or even as healthy as I am without that doctor. But her office? Awful. I didn't have many problems with them during the pregnancy, other than an extremely grouchy ultrasound tech. But I think I've mentioned here that there was a ton of drama trying to get the results back on my genetic tests and my hematology reports that were going to tell us if we could/should have any more children. It ended with Mike parking himself in the middle of the office until someone finally told the doctor we had been mercilessly pestering them. The doctor ended up talking to Mike for like 2 hours and he was so happy with their interaction that he encouraged me to go back for my yearly check ups.
Then Thursday happened. They have a setup where you do triage and a nurse takes your blood pressure and weight then you wait again and the doctor's nurse comes to get you and then you see the doctor. Kind of annoying but whatever.
I went to the booth when was my turn in triage and the nurse went, "LONG TIME NO SEE!!! HOW IS THAT BAYBEE??"
I just sighed and closed my eyes. "Which baby?"
"THE ONE YOU JEST HAYAD!" (I don't remember if she really had a heavy accent but when I remember this in my head it helps to remember her in all caps and with a truck stop waitress accent)
"You mean the one who died?"
She was all, "ohmahgawshahmsosorry" which, fine. But then she decided. to. look. through. my. chart. to make sure we were talking about the same baby. AS IF I WOULDN'T REMEMBER.
"Don't you have another baby?"
"Yes, but she's five." (resisting, at this point, the urge to lose my mind)
An I'm sorry and move along would have been enough but then she's all quiet and serious and "did you get counseling?" Oh, my gosh! So not your business! I told her we were doing as well as could be expected and that we have a good support network. Then she changed the subject to ask if my shoes were comfortable. This moment needs a Japanese emoticon: (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ
I went back to the waiting room where, of course, there were about 400 million visibly pregnant women (more like 3 but hyperbole is more fun) and then nurse COMES BACK, touches my leg (for those of you who don't know me in person, I'm not really a "hey, you should totally touch me!" person) and goes, "I hope I didn't make you feel bad." By now I was pretty grouchy because one of the 400 million pregnant women was sitting right next to me so I said, "Well, you know, it's hard enough to be here with all these pregnant people so it was going to be no fun ANYWAY."
When I told the doctor what happened, she was properly horrified, called the nurse manager and they were both pretty adamant that there would be a reprimand and sensitivity training because just because someone's got an ob card, doesn't mean they have a baby to go with it. And I am not really mad (much) but I can't even imagine her doing this to someone less...I don't know...grouchy and more weepy than I am.
And, while I appreciate that, I believe I will be going back to my old doctor. I plan to write the doctor who delivered Garrett a nice note thanking her for everything and I'll send her an adoption birth announcement (when we get to that point, of course, and no, we haven't gotten any calls--wah!) but that I just can't do the yearly office visit.
And, hopefully that's the end of the Week of Drama. I would like to ask you all to pray for two things. Other than the adoption, of course. Autumn starts kindergarten Monday and I am so not ready. And I'm also trying to get her an occupational therapy appointment at a local private practice for her sensory issues. I'm having a hard time getting them to call me back. I want this to work with them because our insurance covers their group 100% and I am not sure what I'll do if they don't work out. The other places are out of network and we'd have to pay 30% out of pocket which we obviously can't do. She doesn't have enough of a "disability" to qualify for school or state intervention so that's out. I'm trying very hard to leave all this in God's hands and just handle what I can handle as it comes but I'm not very good at that, even after all this time of being shown that #1, I can't control the world and #2, God takes care of me. Thank you all so, so much.