Charlie,  Just Jana,  Mental Health,  Writer

Just Write: The Doctor’s Office

Yesterday, I was sitting in the pediatrician’s office, waiting for a consultation with Henry’s doctor. He wasn’t with me. So I was the lone mother sans child in the well waiting room. Even though the waiting room was the “well” one, there were still people hacking and there’s technically no wall separating the “sick” from the “well” so I’m unsure how that works. Germs just know which side to stay on?

Anyway, when I sat down, I realized there was a baby crying in one of the rooms. It was loud and screechy and muffled. I tried to drown it out by watch Cars on the big screen and by watching the little guy next to me walk across the chairs all proud-like while his mother stood anxiously by his side waiting for him to fall.

The screaming didn’t stop. I take that back, the baby did stop for a second. And then started a wailing, sad cry. My heart fluttered.

I recognized the feeling. I didn’t like it.

The couple sitting by me was discussing their household budget. I tried to listen to them discuss their mortgage, phone bills, school tuition, and whatnot instead of listening to the crying. But it didn’t help.

There was a small baby in the back of the office crying a cry that was causing me to have an anxiety attack.

Recently I’ve realized that I can’t be around small babies. Babies who are newborn to about 2 months old, I just can’t even look at. It fills me with all the emotions and then my heart feels like it’s about to explode. Apparently, small babies crying for long periods of time cause this same feeling.

It’s been ten and a half years since Charlie cried unconsolably for hours before stopping. It’s a sound I’ll never forget. And then the silence that followed is a sound I’ll never forget.

And apparently sitting in a doctor’s office listening to that same sound brings that memory back even stronger.

This has been my post for this week’s Just Write, hosted by the lovely and talented Heather from The Extraordinary Ordinary. 

14 Comments

  • Lisa (@LisainLouKY)

    I never read about your sweet Charlie until today; as I’m sure you’ve read/heard a million times over – I am so sorry for your loss. No Mommy should ever lose their child.

    As someone who lost a niece after five days of fighting in the NICU I get a teeny tiny bit of this. I cannot smell stargazer lilies without it bringing all those memories flooding back. Pictures of tiny babies in the NICU hurt my heart so.

    Praying for peace for you.

    -Lisa

  • Lisa (@LisainLouKY)

    I never read about your sweet Charlie until today; as I’m sure you’ve read/heard a million times over – I am so sorry for your loss. No Mommy should ever lose their child.

    As someone who lost a niece after five days of fighting in the NICU I get a teeny tiny bit of this. I cannot smell stargazer lilies without it bringing all those memories flooding back. Pictures of tiny babies in the NICU hurt my heart so.

    Praying for peace for you.

    -Lisa

  • erin margolin

    I’ve been thinking and crying and thinking and I haven’t known how to respond… except to say that — you are not alone. And you are loved. And I LOVE YOU. Your words are honest and wrenching and thoughtful and…you have been through so much.

    Your anxiety is… understandable. I get the feeling that somehow you think after these 10 years that you’re… not supposed to still have such powerful emotions and anxiety? Even about someone/a baby you do not know. But maybe I’m assuming and I’m wrong.

    You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel. And write about it. I’m so very glad you did.
    You change so many lives, Jana. Including mine.

    Thank you for writing and sharing this, your heart. Your truths. Your fears and your anxieties and… all the moments and memories.

    I wish somehow I could take some of it away for you. But maybe the writing of it helps in some small way, even if only temporarily.

    xo

    • Jana A

      Oh Erin, this is the comment I needed to read. Yes, after 10 years, I think I’m not supposed to have such intense emotions. But then, when I’m not expecting them, BAM there they are. And I’m totally shocked by them. I’m glad to know others recognize that they ARE supposed to happen. Love you, Erin. And THANK YOU. <3

  • erin margolin

    I’ve been thinking and crying and thinking and I haven’t known how to respond… except to say that — you are not alone. And you are loved. And I LOVE YOU. Your words are honest and wrenching and thoughtful and…you have been through so much.

    Your anxiety is… understandable. I get the feeling that somehow you think after these 10 years that you’re… not supposed to still have such powerful emotions and anxiety? Even about someone/a baby you do not know. But maybe I’m assuming and I’m wrong.

    You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel. And write about it. I’m so very glad you did.
    You change so many lives, Jana. Including mine.

    Thank you for writing and sharing this, your heart. Your truths. Your fears and your anxieties and… all the moments and memories.

    I wish somehow I could take some of it away for you. But maybe the writing of it helps in some small way, even if only temporarily.

    xo

    • Jana A

      Oh Erin, this is the comment I needed to read. Yes, after 10 years, I think I’m not supposed to have such intense emotions. But then, when I’m not expecting them, BAM there they are. And I’m totally shocked by them. I’m glad to know others recognize that they ARE supposed to happen. Love you, Erin. And THANK YOU. <3

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