Where Every Chapter of Womanhood Collides

The last time I sat in my OBGYN’s waiting room, I couldn’t stop thinking about how strange it was—how full of life and loss that space always is. I was there to talk about a hysterectomy, while across from me, a young couple flipped through a parenting magazine, giggling over baby names and nursery themes.

Two sides of the same story.
One chapter closing, another just beginning.

The air in that room always hums with something complicated—anticipation tangled with grief, hope brushing shoulders with fear.

Because that waiting room isn’t just for checkups or congratulations. It’s a crossroads.

There’s a woman glowing in her third trimester, absently rubbing her belly as if to soothe them both.
Someone here for a postpartum checkup, pretending she’s fine.
Someone quietly confirming a miscarriage, clutching her paperwork like it might unravel if she lets go.
Someone asking about endometriosis pain, or birth control, or fertility treatments, or menopause.
And someone, like me, ready to close the baby chapter for good.

Every emotion you can imagine fits inside that sterile little space—each of us waiting for news that could change our lives in completely different ways.

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The Quiet In Between

Sitting there that day, I realized how much those walls have absorbed—decades of laughter, heartbreak, relief, exhaustion.

You can’t see it, but you feel it. It’s in the silence between the receptionist calling names. The hush after a door clicks shut. The way everyone avoids eye contact, not out of coldness, but understanding.

It’s the quiet inhale of womanhood—every age, every body, every story—holding its breath at once.

That waiting room doesn’t just hold patients.
It holds beginnings and endings.

And somewhere in between, it holds all of us—learning to make peace with whichever part of the story we’re in.