Monday, September 19, 2005

Waiting and waiting and waiting...

Today I called the Ohio Department of Vital Records to check on the status of Alex's birth certificate. The State cashed my check on July 22, but Clueless lady who answered the phone (and made me want to disinfect my telephone after speaking with her because she sounded like she had some awful contagious illness) had no idea when I might expect to receive it. In fact, she wasn't even sure they "do that."

Then I thought, you know, it's been seven weeks since we finalized our plans for Alex's headstone. I wonder what's going on with that? To be honest, with the way I'm feeling today, I'm too afraid to call. Not that they probably aren't used to people crying on the telephone with them...but I'm just not up for a major breakdown today.

And so I get home and there is a letter waiting for us from the lawyer. I thought, "Wow, way to avoid an uncomfortable conversation...blowing us off in a letter." But no. The letter says they have yet to hear from their nurse practitioner and he will get in touch with her and let us know what is going on.

I have this incredible urge to go home and garden...maybe pulling some weeds will work this ick out of my brain for a bit. Maybe some progress toward something pretty will help ease all this waiting.

4 comments:

MB said...

I guess there's something to be said about sticking together...;)

cat said...

Hope the weed pulling helped. Sticking my hands in the earth usually helps a little. It reminds me that this body, these hands can grow something. *hug*

laura said...

please come weed my flowerbeds. they contain therapy enough to last you for weeks, i promise.

hope tomorrow is better.

Julie said...

PA doesn't issue birth certificates for stillborns, but I do remember paying a fee to the funeral director for a death certificate, which we never received.
And, my yard could use some therapy of its own. It has this non-compliant passive-agressive narcissitic quality about it. It hates me.

Mom

My mom insisted on living independently. She wanted to live in the two-story house she and my dad built in the 70s, despite the fact that da...