The 6-Week Good-bye

Tomorrow, Cupcake turns three. And Skittle will be six weeks. Both of my girls are growing up. Gulp. My babies are still babies, mostly, but every day they are getting older. Getting bigger. I’m thankful that they’re both thriving, but it’s a hard pill to swallow. I wish there was a way to bottle their babyness, so that I could return to it whenever I feel nostalgic for these sweet, early days. I guess that’s what photos are for, though.

Today, I went in to see Dr. Smiles for the standard postpartum checkup. My blood pressure is back to normal and I have fifteen pounds to lose to reach my pre-pregnancy weight. We had a nice chat with Dr. S. About family and the holidays. I asked about the spotting that continues. He asked about my plans for birth control. (“Uh, none?” I said.). And then we went on our way.

As I walked out those doors into the rare November sun, I felt my breath catch as I tried not to cry. I hate good-byes. I’ve said it before (many, many times), but I’m not so good at letting go. If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you may remember this post, where I talk about returning to my OB/GYN after a few months at the infertility clinic. It felt like going home. And now we have to leave them again. Not only because this pregnancy is over, but because of my husband’s new job, we have to switch insurance carriers. Which means my OB is no longer in-network. Which means we are being forced to move on.

That’s hard for me. I feel so much affection and fondness for Dr. Smiles and his staff. They have walked a long road with me. One that included two complicated pregnancies, a miscarriage, and one of my experiences with infertility. They’ve fielded my hundreds of questions. Offered their condolences when necessary. Provided tissues when the tears began. Dr. S and I do not always have the same philosophies and I have not always agreed with or liked the answers he has given me. But I have always respected him and always trusted him. He’s well-read and current on the most recent research. He supported me in my endeavor to achieve a natural birth and, when I thought I needed one, a family-centered cesarean. My husband really likes him. He’s almost all I have ever wanted in a health care provider. And now I have to leave him behind.

It sucks.

It sucks so much that Honey and I are considering abandoning the health insurance offered through his employer and making use of Obamacare. There are some good options for our family of four. We hesitate only because our deductible will increase twenty- or thirtyfold (no joke). But our monthly premiums will be cut in half (which is no small sum) and, most likely, we will get to keep all of our doctors. So maybe it’s worth it. We’re undecided.

Which is okay. We have time. I’m not due for my annual pelvic and paps until March. And I won’t be needing prenatal care again until some time after that. Well…unless, as my doctor suggested, some incredible act of God occurs and we get an unexpected miracle. “Anything can happen,” Dr. Smiles reminded me during his birth control spiel.

Yes, Doc. I know.

But “anything” only happens to other women.

Other women get pregnant without trying.

Other women need the Pill.

Other women get those kind of pleasant surprises.

Not me.

Not ever.

That’s what I wanted to say to him. But I didn’t, of course. I didn’t because there was no point. He didn’t needed to be force-fed my infertility baggage.

And maybe, admittedly, I didn’t say it because a little part of me hopes that Dr. Smiles is right. That anything can happen. That it can happen to me. He has been right about other things. Maybe this, too, can be one of those things. To get pregnant without temping, without OPKs, without obsessing, without worrying, without praying… To get pregnant without even thinking about it… What a dream.


I have endured two separate periods of infertility treatments. I have suffered a miscarriage. And despite all of that, despite everything that speaks to the contrary, I still hope for the next time. That the next time will be different. I suppose it just goes to show… Hope withstands everything.

“Hope is the thing with feathers–

That perches in the soul–

And sings the tune without the words–

And never stops — at all –“

(Emily Dickinson)

5 thoughts on “The 6-Week Good-bye

  1. I feel so, so weird taking BCPs after being so focused on getting pregnant for the last almost 2 years of my life! But, while I would feel so blessed an surprised if we were to conceive without trying, I also might die of stress and anxiety if I were to get pregnant before I’m done with school. I’m already looking forward tossing the pills and trying again! So I hope for you guys a little surprised pregnancy happens!!

  2. I didn’t travel the same path as you, but I know what you mean about loving your OB and how important that is. We developed a great relationship with our OB during my pregnancy and labor/delivery and he was so supportive and willing to field our late night phone calls and see us in his office any time. I don’t anticipate living here by the time we try for our next baby, which is something of a disappointment to me because it means having to find a new doctor and work on new trust and find someone who is on the same wavelength as us. I hope you are able to work something out that works the best for you and your family!

  3. I love Skittles’ baby photos. She is adorable!

    I’m struggling with moving on, too. But for us, it’s more final, as this is our last pregnancy. It’s hard to wrap my mind around.

  4. My midwife has already asked what I plan to do about birth control after the baby is born. I had to stifle a laugh and then reminded her that there is basically 0 chance I’d need it.

    Any kind of change is hard, but I know you’ll get through whatever is next, whether that’s finding a new doctor or navigating new health insurance (or both). Your girls are growing, but they’ll always be your babies!

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