So while initially, after giving birth to my daughter, I was asked very often ‘where did you give birth?’ that question has definitely waned in the last 15 months. It just becomes the sort of question doctors ask you at initial check ups, I guess.
And so, oddly, despite everything, I kinda forgot where my daughter was born.
And then today, I was in Hadassah for a pediatric ultrasound (for… daughter, not me). The receptionist asked a bunch of questions for the computer.
What’s her name?
(You kept your last name?)
Your phone numbers.
And where was she born?
I puzzled at the question. I must have looked ridiculous. Are you her mother, ma’am? You don’t even have the same last name and now you don’t know where she was born?
And yet. The answer… I dug in there… no, it wasn’t at Hadassah, like her brother. It was…
And as I said it… I felt compelled to look down… brace for impact… supplement it with a “in Tzur Hadassah,” as if having Hadassah in the answer might make it more acceptable to this woman.
But actually, she was pleasantly encouraging. Good for you! That must have been great! Was it a positive experience? Did you have a midwife?
Huh. So it’s all coming back to me now. That’s where my daughter was born.