There’s something about waiting for a pediatrician that can feel endless. I’m not sure if it’s a universal experience or just ours, but it seems like there’s a theory that parents with young children are seldom punctual, so there’s no rush to keep the schedule tight.
Recently, I found myself in the waiting room for my daughter Lily’s six-month checkup. She was relaxing in her car seat, while I was slowly drifting into a Mister Rogers-induced trance, as the show loops endlessly on the small television in the corner. “Of course, Fred, we can be friends,” I mumbled to myself, admiring his cozy cardigan.
Just as the trolley was making its way to the Land of Make-Believe, another mom entered with a baby about Lily’s size. After exchanging the usual small talk about the weather and our babies’ ages, she began to rock her child’s car seat back and forth with enthusiasm. The baby erupted in joyful squeals and laughter, and I found myself impressed by her creativity.
Determined not to appear unoriginal, I gave it a try with Lily’s car seat on my lap. Unfortunately, my efforts met with a less enthusiastic response; Lily looked at me as if I had just declared my ambition to become a mime.
As I was attempting to entertain her, I noticed something peculiar—a small, dark spot on the top of her left ear. It resembled a pencil-eraser-sized hole. That can’t be right, I thought, sure someone would’ve noticed a hole in her ear by now. Then again, I did leave the house this morning without shoes, so who knows?
Leaning in for a better look, I realized that the dark spot wasn’t a hole but dried blood. Relief washed over me momentarily—no hole! But then panic set in. Dried blood isn’t exactly a good sign! How did I manage to overlook this? Who on earth allowed me to leave the hospital with this baby?
Lily, however, remained calm and unfazed, seemingly more interested in her own hands than my probing. As I pondered whether to mention this to the pediatrician, I felt trapped by the options. If I confessed I just found it, he’d think I was negligent. If I claimed I knew about it earlier and did nothing, I’d seem even worse. And if he discovered it independently, he might think I was trying to hide something.
In the end, I chose the path of honesty (without mentioning my initial hole theory) because I preferred being seen as incompetent rather than deceitful. The pediatrician examined Lily’s ear and shrugged it off. “Oh, she probably scratched herself with a nail. Look, she’s doing it again!”
I glanced over and saw Lily tugging at her other ear, mimicking a little comedian. “This happens all the time,” he reassured me, and I found comfort in his nonchalance. His following questions about any lead paint in our home seemed standard for all parents at the six-month checkup—not just me.
In moments like this, our parenting journey can feel overwhelming. If you’re preparing for parenthood, consider resources like this article for home insemination or this one that offers insights on maintaining intimacy while trying for a baby. For a deeper understanding of the process, this Wikipedia page is an excellent resource.
Summary:
Waiting for a pediatrician can lead to unexpected moments of panic and humor. A mother navigates her daughter’s checkup, uncovering a mysterious spot on her ear, and ultimately learns that parenting often involves moments of uncertainty and growth.