sharing..

My doctor’s office is always a busy center of nervous energy. There is always a long wait. He holds monitoring visits 7-830am and the waiting room is always packed with women frantically trying to see the doctor before work. We sit tight, each chair occupied, sighing, shifting as the wait turns into 60 minutes… Sometimes even 90 minutes. Such is the joy of having one of NYC’s top specialists as your doctor. Despite having a room full of women going through your same predicament, it doesn’t lend itself to bonding with other women.

Today was different. I arrived at 930 for my IUI and the hullabaloo had died down and lo and behold the waiting room was empty. Another lady walked in after me and we sat near each other and struck up a conversation. While we waited, for the next 30 minutes we shared our experience with each other, and it was the first time that either of us had done so. It was a tremendous relief, but somewhere into our conversation she clammed up and reached for a magazine. I took that to mean she wanted her privacy so I also went back to my book. It was only after a few minutes that I spotted her wiping some tears out of the corner of my eye. In speaking to each other, although a relief, I realized it was also overwhelming to finally have someone to share our thoughts with.

I wanted to offer her my email so we may email or meet up for coffee and share experiences but before I could, we were both called by the nurses to go in for our procedures. That was the last I saw of her. This encounter really made me really yearn for a support net wider than my husband (as wonderful as he is)… to have someone else that is going through the same thing, to share some of this with.

I’m back at the dr’s tomorrow for my second IUI and maybe I’ll run into M. If I do, this time I’ll offer my contact details.