Let It Go.

Thursday Ryan left town to go on a men’s retreat with our church. Which meant that Thursday night I did not sleep. I tossed and turned and just could not get my brain to shut off. I finally dozed off around 2 a.m., and only slept a few hours before waking up to feed Eveleigh. I was exhausted, but had Eveleigh’s two month doctors appointment scheduled for that morning.

I power through, making my way downstairs to make some much needed coffee. I remember that I needed to call our health insurance company to update Eveleigh’s primary care physician. Half awake, I wait on hold for twenty minutes until I get through. I update everything and confirm that we are good to go for the appointment. Me and E get ready and head out the door, running our usual 10 minutes behind. (No matter how hard I try, how early I get up, or how quickly I get ready… we are just always at least 10 minutes late everywhere. I’ve accepted it.). 

We arrive to the doctors office and Eveleigh is beginning to get fussy because it is just about her nap time. I sign in, and they have me fill out a few forms confirming Eveleigh has been added to our health insurance. Then they proceed to tell me that her primary care physician has not been updated. I tell them I just updated it that morning and it should be fine. They say it is not updated yet. I say to call Aetna to verify and that it shouldn’t be a problem. They say they won’t do that. They say it needs to be updated in their system. I ask them to try. They tell me no. I ask them to reschedule the appointment for next week. They tell me no. They will not reschedule until the information has been confirmed. At this point my exhaustion coupled with my frustration is making me on the verge of tears. I think I’ve got to get out of here. I quickly tell them it’s fine and I will call in next week. Though it was not fine, and their rudeness stung.

I walk out of the office defeated, fighting back tears. How embarrassing to cry over something so stupid. But I couldn’t help it. I get in the elevator and luckily I’m alone. Just hold it in a little longer. Just get to the car. Just get to the car. 

A minute later I’m in the car and I finally exhale and let the tears come. I give myself the moments needed. I know that crying is not a sign of weakness, and sometimes it just feels good to let it out. Then, I breathe deeply. I put on some feel good music and I drive home with my daughter. I take in the beautiful mountains and California sunshine and I’m thankful to be alive.