Doctor’s Office

We were still sitting in the doctors’ office.
My daughter and I.
Trying to piece the evidence together
of why her nose was often stuffy.

The mood was light and friendly.
I could tell that my daughter felt safe with her.
She liked this doctor. And so did I.

She told us stories about her pet hedgehog.
And gave us tips on making mouth watering macaroons.

She felt like a friend.
But was still a professional.
Effortlessly guiding the conversation
back to my daughter’s health
in between the less serious matters.

By the end of our time together.
The doctor smiled.

And said that we would still need to do
a few tests in the near future,
but ultimately it was up to me, as a mother,
to decide which of the given options to take.

“Because no one knows
your child better than you do,”
she said with a warm expression
on her face.

”No!” my daughter interupted her.
“Actually… there IS one person,
who knows the child better…”
she continued in a convinced tone.
“The child herself!”

(a mic drop moment indeed)

There were three grownups in that room -
the doctor, her assistant and me.

And all of us were looking at her,
at this beautiful child,
in our bewildered and astonished silence.

Because she was right.
And we all knew it.

No one knows us better
than we do.

With love,
E.