Well, It’s Official…

last week my sweet robb heard a story on NPR about how couples who have experienced a miscarriage are more likely to split up. so he left me.


no, just kidding. (soooo not funny, right?) but he did wonder if we shouldn’t see somebody to help get us through this. we’ve done well, i think, and our marriage is stronger than ever…but we’ve also had some very dark cloudy days. especially me.

i was torn, since seeing a therapist means you’re admitting you’re broken enough that you can’t fix yourself, but it can also be a proactive way to try to stay sane and keep relationships strong. also, having had a positive experience in high school seeing a therapist to get me through some teenage drama/depression, i knew it could be really helpful.

and then earlier this week while talking to some coworkers, i found myself, against my will, really, bitterly assessing the fate of all us infertile professional women everywhere and going on and on (and on) about how gyn’s should be preparing those of us who decide to put off children to have careers that we will all but CERTAINLY have fertility problems, etc, etc.

and it wasn’t fair, or even accurate, this diatribe i was on. one of the girls i was talking to is on her second kid and she didn’t start until her early 30’s and has had zero problems conceiving. and the other girl is in her mid-30’s and hasn’t attempted yet and i’m SURE i’m not helping her anxiety by voicing my own terrors. they kind of looked at me like i was a manic debbie downer. and i decided maybe it was time to get some help.

so we went this morning to see a local psychologist. he’s not too into psychoanalysis and seems very straight-forward. didn’t want to delve too much into my deep dark fears, saying that they seemed well-founded. he called what i’d been through with losing the baby and the sickness and everything “trauma.” it felt sort of nice to hear him say that. like validation.

and he thinks we’re functioning as a couple beautifully- supporting and carrying each other, and obviously talking to each other about all the elements of this shitty situation all the time. he almost didn’t think we were crazy enough for more therapy (how does he stay in business, reassuring people of their mental wellness?!) but we might meet with him once or twice more. i worry that even if all goes well and the clomid works and i get pregnant, pregnancy will be really scary for me. my only experience has been heart break. and when i was pregnant the first time and everything was going well- i was worried about a miscarriage then just based on stories i’ve heard, things i’ve seen, statistics….well now i know just how bad it is and how the promise of a baby can just fall away at any time…i guess that i worry about my worry. (a wig for his wig).

i recognize that this has left me a slightly more hostile, embittered version of my former self. but i feel good that a trained professional thinks that we are fine and that i am mostly intact still and that we didn’t really impress him with our own personal flavor of crazy.

next time i’ll have to go dressed as princess leia and pushing a pumpkin in a stroller insisting that it’s my baby. or maybe it would be more effective if i put a onesie on a cat…

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