This morning we paid the last of the hospital bills from our recent miscarriages–July & August 2019–and it’s bittersweet. On one hand, I’m grateful we were finally able to pay those and move forward (I’ve been holding onto an incredible amount of anger towards having to pay these bills at all because all those tests did was tell us our babies died). On the other hand, this is the last time we will deal with these babies, which is just such a difficult concept to wrap your head around.
As someone who has always struggled with mental health, I am constantly checking in with myself. Having been diagnosed with depression and anxiety many years ago, I am very aware that my risk for postpartum mood disorders is heightened. I am consistent with my meds and check in with my Psychiatrist regularly.
While I truly feel I steered clear of any issues during the postpartum period with Evelyn (now 15 months old)–thank you, proper medication–I’m definitely struggling more this time around. Back to back pregnancies and miscarriages don’t exactly do your body any good… I’ve been feeling extremely anxious lately, to the point that at times, it’s been debilitating. I finally went to my doctor and raised my med dose, and I do think I’ve felt a bit better since then (it’s only been a week or so). But really, at the end of the day, I have felt like I failed.
I lost 2 babies, and now I’ve had to up my meds?! Come on, body, get with it. Having previously tried to lower my meds, I’ve really struggled with having to bump back up. And then the woman at the pharmacy counter when I went to fill my prescription looked from me to my toddler and said, “are you breastfeeding?” My positive reply was filled with an incredible amount of judgment and disgust because how dare I take care of my own mental health if it adds a minuscule amount of risk to my daughter? Go read some literature, ma’am. Times have changed.
We’ve also been knee deep in dealings with our hospital after an awful appointment… So all in all it’s been a stressful moment around here. That being said, I’m so incredibly grateful for my life and all of the beauty in it.
My healthy, vibrant, sassy, beautiful toddler.
My supportive, hard-working, passionate “husband on everything but paper.”
Our house, which I love so much. And fall candles that make it smell so nice.
One of these days, I’ll feel okay enough to write about that midwife appointment, because I truly believe there is a lot to be learned and gained by sharing my experience. But for now, I’m going to give myself a bit of grace.
Happy Fall, friends.