So I was a queen for a brief 15 minutes today. At least it felt like it. I was at the doctor to have 11 vials of blood drawn. One last ditch effort to determine what caused Cara's death.
Before going into the lab, I was sitting in the waiting room having a hard time holding it together. All these pregnant women...everywhere...I wanted to scream, "just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you get a baby." It's maddening holding it in. New moms getting congratulations at their first appointment. Moms about to pop. All of them seemed so carefree. I just want to grab them by the shoulders and say enjoy it.
But of course I'm holding all this in, which leads to my bottom lip quivering and my eyes filling with tears. The lab technicians see this and pull me back to a special chair, my throne of the lab. Then they begin scurrying about the lab, reviewing, rereviewing my chart, getting second opinions on the doctor's indecipherable handwriting, offering condolences. I appreciated the special attention. It said to me this time is going to be different.
As I'm leaving, I'm in the elevator with a woman probably in her seventies. She looked at both of my bandaged arms and said, "Well at least you can't say you didn't have blood taken." I said, "I know, 11 vials of blood later I need a cookie or something." To which she asks why I had all that blood taken. (Excuse me, when did people get so nosy?) I said my daughter was stillborn, and they are running some tests. (You get that personal, I'm going to give it right back.) To which she says, well at least they'll know for the next time.
*Sigh* Really? How about just "I'm sorry". Does this time not count? I'm learning so much about life through all of this.