When I was pregnant, it seemed I was at the OB every other week.
Okay, so the every-other-week bit did not start until I was 30 weeks, but since I went every three-to-four weeks starting at eight weeks, it certainly felt like I spent a good chunk of my life leaving work early and going to pee in a cup at the OB’s office.
At first this was annoying. Nothing cool was happening, like an ultrasound, and most of the time the nurse drew my blood for this test or that test. And my OB and I did not have anything to discuss because (thankfully and happily) I was a low-risk pregnancy with no abnormal issues.
But soon I found myself looking forward to the appointments and counting down the days until I could go back. You see, after so many regular appointments, I got to know all the nurses and my OB super well. Every time I walked in the office, I was greeted with “Sarah’s here!”
It seems that during my visits I took it as a time to chat with the ladies about myself and ask them about themselves, so we developed a relationship that went beyond taking my weight and asking about the pH in my urine. They became my super close pals – pals that knew a lot about me and my insides.
So anyway, I also developed a close relationship with my OB. We chatted about potential baby names, silly concerns I had about lunch meats, how I have to pee every 45 minutes, spin class, and where I got my new bag.
When it came time to deliver Kate, my OB became not only my friend but my cheerleader, coach, and spiritual leader. We shared such a special time, both working together to deliver my baby. Yeah, there were other people there like my husband and my mom, but, really to me it felt like just she and I working together to deliver this new life both of us spent nine months nurturing.
And then it was all over, and so was our beautiful friendship. She cleaned me up, took some pictures, gave me a big hug and left. She left. But I needed her! What about all the time we spent together? Did that mean nothing to her? I missed her! I wanted her to come back!
It felt like a breakup. The first week postpartum, I had to work hard to not call the office to talk with her. I had nothing to say, I just wanted to hear her voice. The comforting voice that coached me all throughout my pregnancy and let me come to the office whenever I wanted for a heart-rate check to quell my anxiety. We were friends, we shared something so intimate, and then that was it.
After a little while and the release of hormonal postpartum rollercoaster, I started to miss her less. But I still talk about her as if we are best friends. I am not sure if others can relate, but it seems to be that after sharing such an emotional experience, a little separation anxiety can be normal. Not only for me, but for my OB office friend, too.
To show my appreciation, I baked them brownies and delivered them with Kate the other day. And I was greeted with “Sarah’s here, Sarah’s here,” smiles, and lots of hugs. Turns out, they missed me, too.