I remember how he used to tease me for bringing my binder, with colored coded spreadsheets, to track our relatively routine pregnancy with Sean in 2003.
And then he was the doctor on call during our scheduled induction, which ended up being an augmentation, when I went into natural labor earlier that day (10 days past my September due date) in October, to deliver our son.
After Sean was stuck at 7 cm and I didn’t progress further for a long while, Dr. Smartass said that we needed to do a c-section.
There is so much I wish we could’ve done differently at that point in our pregnancy/labor/delivery, if we knew then what we know now, especially working with a doula and having them with us that day. However, we’ll never know what difference it might’ve made and that isn’t the point of this part of our family building story.
While drugged up during the c-section to deliver Sean, I told Dr. Smartass the nickname Bob and I had come up with, and started referring to him as, over the previous 9 months or so. He seemed to get a kick out of it.
At the follow-up appointment, after our first miscarriage (at about 7 weeks gestation) in December 2004, Dr. Smartass told me that he would see me back in the spring, insinuating that it would only take that long for us to conceive again. Later on we’d joke that he never said, “which spring.” As we wouldn’t sustain another pregnancy past the first trimester until late 2007, after two more early pregnancy losses, two failed IVFs cycles and one IVF that was converted to IUI, when our first FET cycle brought us our baby girl Molly.
And then after Molly was born and died, in April 2008, by some miracle we conceived our dear Abigail without any medical intervention. But I struggled to believe that we would actually get to bring her home. After all we had been through I wanted to cherish carrying her, while at the same time manage my expectations that nothing would go wrong that we could lose her to.
We got to choose which date, between September 17th and the 19th, to schedule our c-section to deliver Abby at one of the routine appointments we had that summer of 2009. We chose the 17th, as Molly was born and died on April 17th and we like the symmetry of our daughters both having birthdays on the 17th, assuming my water didn’t break or I didn’t go into labor earlier.
I shared at our routine 38 week appointment with Dr. Smartass how excited and also anxious I was about Abby’s birth. He was kind and empathetic, telling us,
“September 17th is going to be a happy day!”
It became my mantra.
I would repeat that to myself when I was struggling to get through each day carrying Abby, as I hoped and prayed she would continue to be healthy and that her delivery would be routine.
As it turned out, Dr. Smartass was scheduled to be at the hospital on September 17, 2009 and thus got to deliver our Abigail Grace that day.
I also feel a special connection to the other doctors in the practice, for various reasons and things they’ve said and done over the years, especially the doctor who delivered Molly and did the surgery to remove our interstitial ectopic pregnancy in November 2005.
However, Dr. Smartass has always been my favorite.
Since 2009, I tend to see whichever of the five doctors in the practice who is available for my annual check-up/pap smear. So 9 years later, I’ve probably only had appointments with Dr. Smartass a few times.
Thus the odds of me getting Dr. Smartass, when I called to schedule my routine appointment this year for the end of May, were not high.
My annual OB/GYN appointments have an element of PTSD, because I have so many bittersweet and vivid memories of being in their office. So I tend to enter with some anxiety to begin with.
When I arrived I was assigned to a nurse whom I don’t recall meeting before. That always stresses me out a bit, as it means I am going to have to recall what we been through, at least a bit, when answering routine questions vs. when I get to see one of the nurses I’ve known for years and remembers our story.
So the nurse and I chatted briefly, which I got through without getting too emotional, and she gave me instructions to change into a paper gown for my routine exam, including a pap smear. Then she left the room.
I walked over the area with a curtain to take off my clothes and put on the gown, immediately noticing a piece of paper hanging on the wall there. It was a letter thanking Dr. Smartass for his many years of service with the practice and wishing he and his family well, as they move across the country.
I was stunned.
Already feeling anxious and emotional, I began to tear up as memories of our journey to build our family, along with Dr. Smartass’s role in that, started rushing through my mind.
I stared at this picture, hanging on the wall, as I processed the news of his departure.
By the time the nurse returned, I was crying.
She understood my sadness and commiserated with me, as Dr. Smartass had convinced her to leave her job at the hospital on the labor and delivery floor, to come and work for them at the practice, three years ago. She shared that he was also her OB/GYN, in addition to being her boss, and how much she trusted his opinion.
As I waited for Dr. Smartass to arrive for my check up, I heard him wrapping up and saying goodbye to another patient in a nearby exam room. It was obvious she was feeling sad about his leaving too.
When Dr. Smartass entered my room he saw that I was struggling. I can only imagine what it was like for him for those last two weeks, after they announced his impending departure, having these interactions with patients, some of whom, like me, feel such a strong connection to and gratitude for him.
He said that he hoped I wouldn’t be mad at him, as some of his patients have expressed. I assured him that I totally understood his family wanting to relocate and wished them the best.
Dr. Smartass told me that he too has vivid memories of being our doctor over the years and delivering our children, describing one image he recalls of me sitting in Exam Room 3 years ago.
From there we moved on with the routine exam, eventually saying goodbye, as I wished him and his family well, and that was it.
Recently we also found out that our longtime dentist, who is a nice guy, but we didn’t have a strong emotional connection to, was closing his local practice, and one our kids’ pediatricians (who we’ve gone to since Sean was born), and we really appreciated over the years, is retiring.
Amazingly we also had the opportunity to have unplanned closure with the pediatrician earlier this spring, when Abby got sick and she was the doctor in the office that day, who saw her when we came in. This doctor always challenged me to be the best mother I can be, which at times came off as judgmental, but did teach me a lot over the years.
I was glad to be able to thank this pediatrician, especially for how thoroughly she examined Abby after she was born, in light of her sister Molly’s fatal congenital heart defects. My dad shared with me on Abby’s birthday, almost 9 years ago, about getting to watch the doctor checking Abby out, and how much that impressed him, which means a lot to me. I relayed that story to her at Abby’s appointment.
I guess this comes with aging, that some of the doctors/service providers in our lives will move on, whether to retire or take on new adventures. Though I am not sure we ever really get used to such changes and times of transition, we learn to adapt.
In many ways it has been a year of goodbyes/making peace with the loss of some special people from my life/past, including those who have relocated (such as Dr. Smartass) or left this world too soon.
As I left my OB/GYN’s office that day, still feeling emotional from having to unexpectedly say goodbye to Dr. Smartass, I got in the car, turned on the radio, and Closing Time by Semisonic began to play.
As I’ve shared here many times, God/the Universe seems to have a way of speaking/DJing to me when I need it most and this was one of those times.
Awhile back I learned the real meaning behind Closing Time, which at first listen sounds like a tune about a bar that is closing down for the night and telling its patrons, that they don’t have to go home, but they can’t stay there.
I was blown away after seeing this video in which Dan Wilson, who wrote Closing Time, shares his intentions about the song.
It seemed fitting to get to hear Closing Time, right after wrapping up another special relationship with a doctor who helped our family become who we are today.
We don’t always get the closure we crave with those who have touched our lives.
And that’s okay.
When closure doesn’t happen, I remind myself that it’s the special memories we cherish that matter most, not having a grand farewell.
That said, I am glad that I got to have closing time with Dr. Smartass and will be forever grateful for his role in our family building journey.
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