"Don't you think you should go see Dr. Macy one of these days?" Walter said gently. We were walking toward the car, and the softness in his voice made my chest tighten. He always knew how to nudge without pushing.
We were coming out of the hospital. I had been nervous for my appointment, but it had gone well.
"You suddenly changed doctors and hospitals," Walter said as we got into the car. "I think she'll be a little hurt."
It wasn't that I didn't understand him. I did. I just felt ashamed. Especially about the last time I saw her, when I practically threw her out of the hotel room. I wanted to apologize, but I still hadn't figured out how. Instead, I did the cowardly thing and changed hospitals. Even though deep down, I knew it was because of her that my baby had made it this far.
The new doctor repeated the same advice Dr. Macy always gave me. Be careful. Rest well. Watch the stress. But somehow, the way Dr. Macy said it always settled differently. She made me feel seen.
