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 topics.

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

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.

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

But my daughter wasn’t convinced.

“Actually…” she exclaimed in a convinced tone.
“There IS one person, who knows the child better…”

“The child herself!”

My daughter added after a brief pause
(that felt like a mic drop).

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 bewildered and astonished silence.

Because she was right.
And all of us knew it.

No one knows us better
than ourselves.

With love,
E.