One Shrink, Two Shrink, Three Shrink, Four...

There is a 7-month wait to see a psychiatrist in this province. And I have three psychiatrists.

In 2001, I was brought to a downtown hospital to undergo a "difficult patient assessment". There were 21 psychiatrists sitting on creaky metal chairs placed in a circle in a salmon-coloured room. Most of them were middle-aged white men. My father came with me and stayed in the room until I asked him to leave the room so that I could speak freely about my illness. The purpose of the visit was to see whether any of the 21 psychiatrists had new ideas about how to treat me, as I'd been treated for 4 years without any improvement and nobody knew what to do with me anymore. I had been on almost every type of anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, anti-psychotic, anti-epileptic (which also serves as a mood stabilizer). I had received almost 4 years of on-and-off electro-convulsive therapy. I had been locked up in isolation. The psych ward was more of a home to me than any other I'd ever lived in.

Out of that three-hour assessment, I walked away with two new psychiatrists - one to focus on medication and one to focus on talk therapy. I had major psychosis and several other symptoms of schizophrenia, so the talk therapist that took me on specialized in schizophrenia. I don't know whether he was "disappointed" that I turned out not to have it (I hope not), but he has, for over a decade, seen me once a week and I owe him my life, many times over.

My med shrink was incredible. Though I had/have treatment-resistant depression, he got me on a cocktail that eventually helped some of my symptoms: He stopped my psychosis immediately, and put me on anti-depressants that had not yet been approved by Health Canada (our version of the FDA), which actually helped some of my symptoms too.

And now, I have a Reproductive Psychiatrist too. Who is fabulous and has a plan for me to wean off what I can... and who will see me until one year after the birth of my child.

There was a time where I really did need a "power team" of psychiatrists, but I feel as though this is not necessary anymore. I think about all of the people in this city and province who are waiting to see someone, and though my decision to stop seeing my med shrink won't directly affect that (he will not see anymore patients regardless), I feel like I did the right thing by transferring my full care to my talk shrink.

But the break-up was hard.

The med shrink is the best shrink in this city - no exaggeration. He is known as "the doctor's doctor," as he only sees patients who are doctors or their spouses (with the exception of a few patients, ie. me). He was the first psychiatrist in my life who ever listened to me, the first to treat me with the respect that I deserved, the first that didn't shove me back on an ECT bed to have my brains shocked out.

He's become a bit of a father figure to me, and to him, I will forever be grateful. There were a few reasons I decided to break up with him (and it really did feel like a breakup), and mostly, it had to do with becoming pregnant.

In his last email to me before I told him I would not be seeing him anymore (the only shrink I have ever dealt with who gives his personal email, home phone number, etc.), he warned me about lowering the medication I'm lowering now, saying that the last time I did so, I became incredibly ill. I appreciate his concern, but I need to do this. I need to do this for me, and for the health of my baby.

Am I scared? F*ck, yeah. Most people could never imagine leaving his care once they were able to get in with him, and though I'm nervous over my decision, I feel like it's the right one. I must now put my faith in my talk shrink, who I've been seeing for almost as long, who is a great doctor, and who knows how badly I want to have a baby. In all honesty, he seemed a bit nervous when I told him what I wanted, as the pregnancy adds another layer, but I'm sure he'll be great.

Even though I feel like I made the right decision, it's been incredibly hard. There have been some pangs of regret. There have been some anxious moments where I feel like I've given up so much.

I guess it's all part of this messed-up journey.

Thank You

I just want to write a quick post to thank those who have chimed in with support and advice over the past few days - I feel very lucky. I chose to post instead of replying to comments because I wanted to make sure people saw this.

As for the advice to go into therapy, I think it's a great idea. We were seeing one for the latter half of last year but stopped because things were going so incredibly well. She's excellent, and a lesbian mother herself, so I assume she knows what this all entails. She already knows many of our (past?) issues, and I think it's best to use her to deal with this in the fairest way possible - for both parties.

We call it Thousand Dollar Therapy because of the cost... but some things are definitely worth the money.

Different Pages, Maybe Even Different Books

Do you know how hard it is not to make one comment pertaining to whether or not we're going to have a child when it's been decided that we aren't going to speak about it until January?

And I don't mean "Honey, do you still want to have kids?" I'm mean the "Yeah, our kid wouldn't be caught dead doing that" or "Can you imagine how cute it would be if our baby had that hat?" or "Our niece will be old enough to babysit by then". 

As some of you know, our therapist helped D and me decide to put off baby talk (any of it!) for three months. I agreed that it was a good idea (and still think it is, mostly). We're in the middle of the last month of this, and I've been doing well this whole time, but I'm about to explode. Part of why I blog is to get all of this out, and to write out my hopes and dreams, because I can't speak with my wife about them. Not yet...

I can't tell her that one of the main reason I am coming off anti-anxieties is because I'm thinking about pregnancy. I can't tell her that I'm putting away a certain amount of money a month to pay for fertility treatment. I can't tell her that whenever I see a baby, my uterus kicks me in my brain. I can't tell her that I've met some really great people online who I really connect with. And it is not because I'm hiding things from her, it's because I am keeping my part of the deal, but to be honest, it feels like I'm lying - or becoming really distant from her - because I can't share these things.

I'm just really looking forward to a month from now, when we will be talking about babies, and I hope that when I finally bring up the fact that I've been blogging, she doesn't freak out. I hope she realizes that this is beyond important to me. How do I explain that gut-wrenching desire that comes from the pit of my stomach and my heart at the same time, to someone who has never had one urge to carry a child. I don't think she has to be on the same page when it comes to level of excitement... I just hope that if we do go ahead with trying to have a baby, she will feel excited. I think she will. If having a baby is what she really wants, she will.

Is there anyone else out there that wants to / is / has carried a child with a partner that isn't as invested as you? How has it worked? Does it work?

We're planning on moving and a lot of the places we're looking at and can afford are one bedroom places. The fact that I can't turn to D and say "but where will the baby's room be?" is killing me...

Ugh, I hate this. I just want to know, so that I can celebrate or mourn. I feel entitled to that. And it's coming... in less than a month. I suppose I should be happy.

Patience is a bitch.

                    [photo credit]

Holding On...

I haven't even visited my own blog since the last time I wrote - haven't checked the email associated with it, haven't really thought about it. Why would I? It's a blog devoted to a woman and her wife who are trying to conceive, who are creating a family. A blog devoted to the special challenges that mental health and pregnancy brings. A blog devoted to my thoughts, read by nobody (or so I thought).

I was surprised to see that three people commented on my last post. And three might not seem like much, but it was so much for me. I didn't even see them until now, but I am so thankful for the words of encouragement from the three of you, to someone you don't know. I know it's the blogosphere, and it's easy to leave comments without really thinking about it, but these seemed genuine and personal, and for that, I thank you.

My marriage is going okay. It's actually going well. We are definitely heading in the right direction, thanks to the fact that we are both good talkers and listeners, and are very eager to improve on our respective selves. That, coupled with a good therapist and some great friends, has got us through this rough patch. And it wasn't just a little slip - there was talk of ending, leaving, and it was one of the scariest times of my life.

As I wrote in my last blog, I asked D about whether or not she still wanted kids, and she said "give me a while," which I did, and then I went even more crazy, because I feel as though I need to know either yes or no, so I can either plan or mourn, depending.

It has always been a tough subject to bring up, but it's been especially so since our crash (as I'm calling it). It makes me so anxious not knowing, and it makes her so anxious to even think about the possibility right now. My mood has been affected by not being able to plan, and by her reactions to me suggesting that this is something I need to know about right now.

But that's unfair. A lot of this is unfair. And as much as having a baby is one of the most important things to me (which is okay), my first priority is healing my relationship. I can't lose her. I may lose the ideal of a baby, but what's the use if I don't have a happy, healthy home to bring a child into? I don't want to be a single mom. I don't want to get (even more) depressed. I don't think I can raise a child on my own. I don't want to raise a child on my own. I want this to be something D and I can share and go through and enjoy and experience and plan.

But the plan is on hold and I'm holding on.

We made a deal in therapy today: we are to put the baby talk aside and focus on living in the "here and now". Does that frighten the hell out of me? Yeah, but I know that this is what D needs. And this is what we need - to have this huge "subject" out of the other issues we can fix on and build - so that we can live and love and breathe and be. Together.

The deal has a time limit, which I guess is my side of the bargain. I can't talk about it at all (with D), until January 1st next year. And while that seems on the surface like an impossible task, it's actually okay... I don't know how to turn the baby thinking "off" (can you?), but I know that my first priority is to heal my marriage.

So, I may post here to get my thoughts out... I don't know. But here is no "Mom" in this Crazy Lesbian Mom blog yet, but that doesn't mean I can't write.

And for anyone reading who has any advice: How do you shush up the "oh-my-god-if-i-don't-talk-about-it-i'm-going-to-die" thinking?