Thankful for the flu shot?

I went and got my flu shot today. This used to scream "I'm pregnant" because I stubbornly never wanted to get the shot, and never seemed to need it, as I can't recall ever having the flu (knock on wood). Last year, I called my best friend and told her I got the flu shot, and she knew immediately that I had news to share.

But, as many other habits in my life have changed, I hereby now believe in getting the flu shot. With a baby in my house, I want to take every precaution from getting/spreading illness.

It is an amazingly beautiful day here. I wouldn't want Thanksgiving Eve to be any other way. It's bright, sunny, and crisp outside, but not cold enough to need a sweater (upper 60s... perfect!). Christmas decorations are going up all around the medical center.

So, I thought it might be a good day to walk over to the occupational health clinic for my shot. I'd been putting it off long enough.

The walk to and from the clinic reminded me so much of when I was pregnant with Clyde. The first part of the walk was the same path I took to see the Midwives, every month, then every two weeks, then every week. It became part of my routine. It felt strange not to go and see them the week after Clyde was born. Even weeks after he was born, I was wishing I had a reason to go see them. I would never say this about any other doctor I've ever seen. The Midwives are just awesome. That's all there is to it. I felt like they cared about me, not just as a patient, but as a person. I wasn't just another patient chart in their files. They weren't machines, asking questions per protocol. I looked forward to sitting on that exam table, being poked and prodded, talking about "the baby". So, today, I wanted to change my course and just walk right in and see them. But alas, I was going to get my flu shot. And I'm not pregnant. Hm. Maybe I should make an appointment for a pap smear? ;)

Anyway, there was no wait for the shot, and I was outta there in 1.2 seconds. I decided to take the "shortcut" back to my office. Now, if you know how big this medical center is, you have an idea of how easy it might be to get lost. So yeah. That "shortcut" was no short cut. I ended up taking a detour that was much out of my way.

I took the skybridge across Main Street. The last time I was on that skybridge, Nate and I were walking to our car after an appointment with the Midwives, in which we were instructed to go home, have a nice dinner, and pack our bags to check into the hospital the next day. I remember we were feeling a surreal sense of anticipation.

Instead of forking off to the right (towards the Midwives), I forked left, which I thought would take me towards my office. But when I got to the end of the bridge, I realized I was now inside St. Luke's, the hospital where Clyde was born. This was not in the direction I needed to be going. I hate (hate) hospitals, but instead of back-tracking, I decided to keep going, and just take the long way home. I weaved through the hospital corridors to the front lobby.

The last time I walked in to that hospital, I was still pregnant. The last time I walked out (or, I was wheeled out), I was holding a crying baby. I had such a positive experience in that hospital. And I was remembering every detail of checking in to our room, giving birth, recovery, and going home.

It seems impossible that I will ever have such a positive pregnancy and birth experience again. It also seems impossible to love another child as much as I love Clyde.

So, cheers to getting my flu shot, which took my down memory lane, and made me remember how thankful I am for Clyde, for the midwives, and for such a quality hospital system.

Happy Thanksgiving!