It's weird how sometimes I can be perfectly calm explaining Stella's death to aquaintenances and even strangers, and other times, something really small sets me off.

Today I had to go to the OBGYN because my incision was separating a lilttle bit in one area, and it was oozing slightly, so I wanted to make sure it wasn't infected. I called and left a message for the nurse to tell her what was going on and ask her if I really did need to make an appointment. She returned my call within an hour, and as I suspected, she wanted me to see a doctor. Two minutes after I got off the phone with the nurse, I aw the OBGYN's number pop up again on the phone. Confused, I answered, and the same nurse says to me, "I forgot to ask you if you're bottle feeding or breastfeeding or if you're supplementing." I took a deep breath, and with my voice cracking, I told her, "Our baby passed away." She was immediately apologetic and told me over and over how sorry she was. Her apologies then turned to concern, and she began firing questions at me. "Are you okay? Have you gotten help? Are you talking to a counselor?" I could barely speak at this point, and as tears were streaming down my face, I forced out, "Yes, I'm okay" and "Yes, we have a great support system at our church." The questions continued on her end, and I'm sure my sobbing answers were really convincing.

I managed to pull it together for the most part as I drove Ely and I to the OBGYN (Ely was at home with me because his tummy hurt), past Kennestone and the bittersweet memories of Stella's birth, wondering if I would ever deliver another healthy baby again.

Not surprisingly, there was a newborn baby and many pregnant mothers in the waiting room. I was okay, then, though. Ely was there, distracting me aloud with his train of disconnected and amusing thoughts. Except for two trips to the water dispenser, Ely was surprisingly calm, rocking next to me, and patting my hand every once in awhile. I think he could sense that it was hard for me to be there.

I met a doctor today who was new to me, Dr. Alarcon, and I can see why some of my friends really like him. Apparently, though, no one informed him of Stella's passing. He was the third person to ask me, "So, how's the baby?" After I explained (again), he apologized for the entire staff, saying there was no excuse for them not to have put it in my chart so that I wasn't asked about it multiple times. I appreciated his apologies, but I still wondered how it is that an OB office didn't communicate this type of information among their staff. I told the doctor who delivered Stella what happened, but maybe she didn't pass it along? The same thing happened during my pregnancy. I'd have nurses tend to me who had not read my chart, and would ask with great enthusiasm, "So, how's the baby?" My own experience makes me think twice about nonchalantly asking routine questions and expecting the canned "good" or "fine." You just never know what people are going through or have been through.

Needless to say, I was relieved to be done with my appointment and on my way home. It was really nice to meet Dr. Alarcon, though, and the conversations I had with Ely on the way to the OB were precious and priceless. I'll save those for another post, though. :)