Yesterday we found out the approximate cost of a c-section. There were smelling salts and cold cloths involved. Holy mackerel. Thank goodness for insurance, but even then? ASTOUNDING.
This was one of the blips in a rocky sort of day. I had a series of unpleasant conversations with my least favorite patient coordinator (let’s call her Ruby) at my OB’s office. Dear Ruby doesn’t like her job. Either that, or she likes it (and the POWER involved) a little too much. Not the most welcoming person, and I had the opportunity to speak to her three times in a single day! (Incidentally, I found out today that Ruby, dearest peach, only passed on one of my messages... and never told anyone that I called back. SWEET!)
After the rockiness, Chip picked me up to head home. This isn’t a common occurrence, since usually I take the bus – but because of the holiday bus schedule, I knew I’d miss the last bus out of the city. We had some good time to talk in the car and share our feelings about what’s been going on. There has been a lot of, um, STUFF. As you can imagine. Tears are very close to the surface. Tears of joy, tears of sorrow, tears of gratefulness, tears of frustration, tears of exhaustion, tears of every rainbow color and shape.
On the way home we stopped at the store for the Very Best Granola in the World (okay – maybe it’s not quite called that, but it’s close). It’s sold in those bulk bins and I can never seem to get enough. I haven’t had this granola in eons because I didn’t even realize we had a purveyor of the stuff in our neighborhood. But we DO and so we DID (buy the granola). Coming in from the parking lot, Chip looked at me and at our clasped hands and said, “We’re so grown up. Look at us. Dressed in dressy work clothes. Holding hands. Walking into the store to buy granola.”
These are the moments I want to fix in my memory. These are the moments that protect us in times of strife. These are the moments that quietly come and just as quietly fade—only leaving an impression if we notice them enough to ask them to stay just a second longer, to fix them into our memory with so much tape and glue.
It would never make sense to anyone but us that our favorite time is when we're wearing our dressy work clothes and we're walking hand in hand through the grocery store parking lot at 7pm to buy granola.