So it’s no surprise that at times infertility can get the best of us. Even the strongest must sometimes admit that they could use a professional to talk to about infertility. Someone who isn’t related to us and is not intertwined with our situation, who can give us an unbiased response to the way we're feeling. That’s what I'd assumed I was heading into 2 weeks ago when I contacted a psychiatrist... WRONG!
It’s no secret I've been struggling with this last miscarriage more than with the 2 prior. If I had to guess why, I'd say it’s a combination of the fact that that was the farthest I've gone in a pregnancy—seeing the heart beat several times made it very real to us—and the fact that we have now poured 7 years of our lives into this one thing, only to again not have our dreams realized.
I've been seeing a wonderful therapist since just after my recent miscarriage in March, and I can’t say enough wonderful things about her. She is not one of those therapists who sit there and force you to do all the talking (I hate nothing more), and she won me over in our first meeting when I told her I just wished someone would understand and she said to me “You’re right, this situation you are in just plain sucks.” Finally, someone got it! No dancing around it, it just plain outright SUCKS!
After several weeks of sessions with her we got to discussing how Dallas and I have recently started trying again and how I’m panicked by the thought of getting pregnant again. Sounds silly, right? I’m trying so hard to get pregnant, but I’m panicked by the idea! I used to fear that I'd never get pregnant; now after 3 miscarriages I fear what happens after I get pregnant. Anyone who's been through multiple miscarriages knows the route your mind takes immediately after seeing that extra line on the pregnancy test. All you can do is focus on all the things that can go wrong; it really messes with your mind and well-being.
When you’ve never had a good outcome, what else are you supposed to focus on.?
“Relax”, everyone says. Bullshit. It's impossible to relax. This is why, after several discussions with my therapist, we both agreed it may be in my best interest to speak with a psychiatrist and discuss the possibility of trying a low dose of an antidepressants to prepare myself, in the hopes that I do become pregnant in the near future, so I'm not a complete ball of anxiety the entire first trimester (here’s really hoping I get that far!).
After clearing my plan with my infertility doctor, I set up an appointment with a psychiatrist through the University of Rochester health system. Now, I stand by that health system entirely, and not just because I’m an employee. However... I won't mention her name, but... walking into the appointment I was already very nervous, my stomach in knots; the thought of having to relive the last 7 years with someone new was frightening. I have a very hard time, even now, talking about any of this without bursting into tears. 5 minutes into the appointment—we'd barely gotten past my name and date of birth—she stop[ed and said she had no intention of giving me medications. Wow, OK. We hadn't even discussed what brought me to talk to her that day and already she'd told me she didn’t think I needed medication. I hadn't even gone there with the absolute certainty I wanted medications to begin with. I simply wanted a discussion about them and to weigh the positives and negatives of taking antidepressants during infertility treatments and pregnancy. She then asked me why I would ever even consider taking medications that are not entirely safe during pregnancy, all coming with their own awful list of birth defects they can cause to the unborn child that “you are trying sooooo hard for.” Now insert sarcasm and picture her sitting back and mocking me when she said that last line, with her head shake and eye rolling and all. She also informed me that they all carry a risk of
miscarriage, and asked me why I would even selfishly risk that.
All this within literally 5 minutes.
We continued with the assessment, even though I was now totally turned off by the experience. It was a zillion degrees in her office; her cell phone kept buzzing. AND she was checking it throughout the meeting. She had this framed Mother’s Day poem sitting right behind her. All of these things pissed me off even more than I already was after the wonderful first 5 minutes of our meeting. Finally, the long hour was over and she sat back, took her glasses off, and said to me, “I don’t get why you are even depressed in the first place. You have a husband, a step child, and a job. That’s more than most people, so why are you not grateful for that?” I had to pick my jaw up off the floor, completely appalled that she was seriously judging me! I was in a cross between holding back my tears and rage, and seriously wanting to throat punch her. Why would she ever think I am not grateful for the life I have? I am so in love with my husband, step child, and my job! They have nothing to do with why I am feeling depressed, anxious, and overwhelmed! She's a medical professional, so why was she not getting that? She managed to completely make me feel guilty and minimize my situation, all in 2 sentences.
As if all of this wasn’t bad enough, it got worse from here. She then tells me that “your situation is not the end of the world.” Let me say that again…”YOUR SITUATION IS NOT THE END OF THE WORLD.” How the hell do you know it’s not the end of the world? It’s MY world, MY situation, MY infertility. How can you tell me it’s not the end of the world if I never have children? It’s not the end of the actual world, no. I understand that. But the thought of never having a child of my own that I share with my husband feels like the end of my world. It’s a very hard reality to try and swallow. Hence the reason I was seeking professional help to work through these emotions in the first place.
And to wrap us this wonderful psychiatric evaluation, she tells me I should change my mind-set, go out and get some sunshine and meditate, and maybe if I think more positively I won’t be in this
“situation” I’m in anymore. Really? Sunshine and meditation are going to change my “situation?” My
“situation” is infertility, at least have the respect to call the disorder by its actual name.
At this point I was so upset I was shaking; I was desperately trying to hold back my tears so I didn’t give her the satisfaction of making me cry. I was beat red. I honestly felt the lowest of lows. I felt like I was just verbally abused by someone I was asking for help. I had so many thoughts running through my head, but I couldn’t process a single one of them. She basically dismissed me and my feelings out of her office. I was so thankful I had a therapy appointment directly after this horrific office visit so I could just spend 45 minutes crying before I actually had to go out in public. I was honestly a mess.
.JPG)
it easier for me to go to them with my story.
Whether anything will come of this, I don’t yet know. But, I do know that I feel better by getting my story out there. And the University was very sympathetic to my needs and offered me a new psychiatrist, which I've turned down at this time. Her words really sit heavily on me still, and the thought of going through anything like that again makes me sick. So for now I am still seeing my therapist biweekly to talk through this process, hitting the gym daily to get some good endorphins flowing, and still trudging through these infertility treatments.
One day at a time.
