I found her sobbing outside the elevators on the 1st floor of the medical building, dressed in purple scrubs and fake crocs clutching her lunch bag as tears rolled down her face.
The people waiting for the elevator stared somberly at the up and down lights as if to move them more quickly in their direction.
They all knew. An entire floor of OB offices.
A mom with a little girl in her stroller looked at me as I walked closer. Our eyes met and we connected in our own helplessness. "She said she'll be okay" she whispered. You could tell she didn't believe her.
Either did I.
The woman was unmoved by the crowds exiting and entering the elevators as I sat down next to her. I offered her water and help, and told her my name. I tried to engage her in conversation to see what was wrong.
I could barely understand what she said, but I just sat there anyway until she assured me that she didn't need anything. That she'd be fine.
The mom returned, telling me that she had alerted the doctor's office. I sat for a little longer, hoping someone would come out to offer her tissues or at least walk her to her car.
And then I put my hand on her shoulder and walked away, trying hard not to remember sitting in the hallway of my own OB's office, watching staff and patients pass me by as I not so quietly sobbed on my own terrible day.