The last post I ended with wanting answers and saying that we finally did get some. But they were the kind you don’t hope for. The kind when you are waiting for results of something and you cross your fingers and repeat over and over again ‘please don’t be this, please don’t be this, please don’t be this’. Because maybe if you say it enough, repeat it enough, you can will it to be what you want, or at least will it to not be that. Where ‘that’ is the one thing you don’t know if you can handle.
We got ‘that’. We went for more tests. And the entire time, the weeks of waiting, over and over in my head I am saying ‘please don’t let it be that’. But it was. I got the call one day, I was at work at the Gap. And because I have an awesome boss who knew what I was going through, she let me take the call. And there it was, a 2 minute conversation and it was ‘that’.
“In my opinion you will never naturally conceive.”
I could stop all the meds I was on, I could stop taking my temperature, and I could stop peeing on sticks. Because we were done, game over. And I know you all want specifics, but, believe it or not, there are some things I don’t share. But trust me, the results were definitive.
This was last May, and I can still remember where and how I was sitting, that I thanked her after she told me, and the feeling in the pit of my stomach. I left work and headed home as Jacob and I already had plans to meet home for lunch. I called my sister on the way home hysterical. I told her I had to talk to someone before I told Jacob, because I had just gotten bad news and I had to get the hysterical part over so I could tell him calmly.
And then I had to sit my husband down and tell him. How do you have that conversation? You are not supposed to have to have that conversation with you husband. You’re just not. But I did, I had to tell my husband that we would probably never have kids naturally. And that is the thing that I am still most upset about. That I had to force those words to come out of my mouth and speak them to my husband. It is bad enough hearing that news, but to then have to break that news to your husband.
Friends have counseled me that I was the best person to tell him, that he would of wanted to hear it from me. But you can’t begin to imagine how hard that was. And it is a small thing to focus on, but that moment is frozen in my mind.
I went to my regular doctor for a checkup shortly after this. She asked how things were going as I had told her over a year ago we wanted to have a baby. I promtply burst into tears at her question. I quickly apologized and explained we had just gotten some bad news and what it was. Two minutes into my explanation she pulled out her perscription pad and suggested I try some prozac.
How about ‘NO’? Now don’t get me wrong, I am all for medicine and therapy. If you have a medical or psychological issue I am all for talking to someone or taking something to help get you back on track. It bothers me that people think depression or other medical issues are a matter of pure ‘will-power’. They are not, sometimes brain chemicals or horomones drop or rise in your body, either by fluke or some physical trauma, and you need a medical solution to kick start things again. All this to say I am NOT against therapy or medical treament for physical/psycholgical issues.
What I am against is a doctor pushing pills down my throat after I had just received devastating news. I GET TO BE UPSET ABOUT THIS! I get to mourn, to cry, to be pissed off at the fact that I cannot naturally conceive. I have the right to feel that sadness and process this trauma. I tried to tell the doctor this and she came back with the standard, ‘well this could ease the pain’.
Well so could going on a drinking bender, but I wasn’t going to try that either.
I told her that if a few more weeks went by and I was still weepy and feeling depressed I would call her. Because that would be depression. But the fact that I was upset after recently learning we couldn’t have a kid naturally? I was supposed to be upset, it would be abnormal if I wasn’t. The doctor had her nurse call me two days later, just ‘checking-in’ to see if I had changed my mind about prozac. I told the nurse I would never be keen on taking any drug offered to me after only two minutes of conversation. I mean come on, street-drug pushers are more subtle than that (I did not say this last part to the nurse).
And I did start to feel better. We were not optionless, but those options were still quite a way off in the distance. And it was a little freeing to stop taking pills, temperatures, and monitoring every little thing about my body. I was still sad, but not depressed. The thing that had depressed me had been the not knowing.
It’s the not knowing that kills you, or at least me. It’s why I’m still a little frightened of the dark, it’s the not knowing what is out there. It’s the constant wondering of why. Now we knew the ‘why’.
I apologize for the length of this post and if it seems scattered. I have actually split a larger post, this is part one. I included the doctor story in this part to lead into the next post, which is on the theme of things not to say to people struggling with infertility.