Monthly Archives: January 2017

The Doctors

I’m so frustrated with doctors.

They are the ones who are in charge of medications because they know how they interact with each other and how they work with the body… That does not give them authority over my body.

One goal, or dream, that I have held very dear to my heart, is to have a family. To have a child, born of my body, carried and conceived by me. Why is that such a hard concept? Women do it all the time. Women who don’t even want babies, have babies. But when a woman who has bipolar or BPD wants to have a child, it feels like the world is against it. 

“It’s dangerous!” They say, while looking down on you. 

“You’re dangerous!” He said, with his mouth in a firm line, looking over his glasses, as if he just said the most obvious thing in the world. 

“You think it’s going to be easy? Because it’s not. You won’t get any sleep. Because there is no such thing as sleep with an infant. And they poop all over everything.” She exclaimed, as if I don’t know anything about babies, or what happens with babies. Yes, I’m very aware that babies poop and don’t sleep through the night, and they eat, a lot. 

“Negative.” The nurse said as she poked her head through the door. “Oh, thank God. That’s great news!” The doctor looks so relieved as she peers at me with this look of elation on her face. All the while, my heart is breaking inside. 

She asks me if I’m stable, I say yes. I tell her that I am working and that I have goals and one of my goals includes having a baby. But, of course, I understand that I can’t be on these medications and have a baby, that’s why I’m asking for help. 

“You do realise that bipolar is genetic, right? So you’d be passing that along to your child. And you’re ok with that? And, what, you’re going to do this alone?” Well, no I have my husband. (And heart disease and diabetes is genetic, too. That doesn’t mean you’ll automatically have it what’s your point?) “And he’s ok with this?” Well, yes we want a child. “Are you trying to wean yourself off of these medications, because this would be disasterous to a baby.” Yes, I’ve gotten off of several medications, and I’m just down to this.  “Well ok, but I’m not going to be a part of it. And I won’t prescribe you these medications, you’ll have to see someone else, this isn’t my area of expertise.” That’s fine…that’s kinda why I was here… not for a lecture… but until you get the referral can you at least give me a refill for what I am taking so I don’t run out? “Fine, but I’m only giving you a 30 day prescription, and don’t try to get pregnant, because I don’t want to be responsible for this. And tell him to wear a condom for a while.”

I guess I’m just frustrated that ever time I tell a doctor that I want to have kids I get a lecture. Why is it such a bad thing for me to want? I know kids come with responsibilities. It’s not like I’m a child coming into motherhood, I’ve thought about this. I’ve helped raise babies, and while I haven’t been the sole responsible party, I know how much work it takes. I know that the current medication that I’m on is not good for a baby, which is why I’m asking doctors for help to get off of them, safely. But everyone wants to put in their judgements about how someone with bipolar shouldn’t raise children. If you don’t know much about bipolar disorder, don’t talk about it. And simply say that it’s not your area of expertise and that you can’t make any claims to what would be the best case there. I’m not asking for parenting advise at this time, I’m simply asking for help to start a family, safely, and off of medications or on something that can be viable to the pregnancy and my sanity. 

To sit there and talk down about me, in front of me, judging me, without even truly knowing me and all I’ve gone through is not right. You have no idea how far I’ve come on my journey. How many chapters are in my book that have me overcoming the most challenging things that I have ever faced. You don’t know, because you’ve spent a whole 15 minutes with me and you think you know enough about me to tell me that I shouldn’t have kids. Why? Because I have bipolar disorder? Because I have borderline personality disorder? Because I have panic attacks? Because some days are really hard but I drag myself out of bed anyway? I’m stable. I’m maintaining a full time job. And while my anxiety is getting a little high due to stress, I think I’m doing very well. I have goals, I have decided that I want to go to school to become a nurse. Because I have become confident enough in myself to know that I can do it. 

If you would have met me years ago, you wouldn’t know the person I am today. I’m not the same. And I’m tired of people treating me like I’m a basket case because of some label. 

I just want to be me. And I want to be a mom.