Today's focalpoint was trip to the ob/gyn, around which Sonja's feedings and naps and Greg's completely insane work situation had to be scheduled. In retrospect, the way things escalated was almost comical, climaxing with my sitting half-naked and sobbing in the little examination cubicle while Dr. Bock and Greg unknowingly raced each other to my side. Greg arrived first, Sonja in tow, she apparently unaware that she was supposed to be hysterical with hunger. I had rushed to drop baby with Greg at work after a hurried, incomplete nursing, and then sat for an hour and a half in the waiting room. In the meantime, the precious reserve of expressed milk that I had brought, frozen, for Greg to thaw and use only in case of extreme duress, was unuseable because I had forgotten to pack the lid for the bottle. Greg was on a timetable too, having to re-transfer baby back to me at a rapidly approaching hour, and so there I sat in the packed waiting area hissing into my cellphone, "just BRING her to me!" Is it possible to breastfeed during a pap-smear? Oh my god. So as it turned out I was able to rush Dr. Bock through the fastest exam in history and get Sonja home ALMOST before she lost her composure. The one cool thing about this experience is that my hormonal blubbering brought out a side of the doctors and staff at Myrtle St OB/GYN that I had never seen: everyone smiled and busted out heartbreaking, human stories of their own equivilant experiences. I think the psychological support they gave me today was more impressive than anything medical they have ever provided to me.
In other news, things are happening with the house. I'm now obsessed with interior paint colors.
Mökki Santara House / Carla Gertz
6 hours ago