Scene: At the OBGYN
My new 14-day course on self-talk during pregnancy loss
I am on the padded doctor’s table, wrapped in a plastic paper gown.
The doctor stood as far away from me as she could while still being able to put the wand inside of me to check the fetus. I was certain I was miscarrying. She stood there silently, shifting the wand back and forth.
“So, you aren’t miscarrying.” She said it plainly, flat. No affect. She continued to move the wand around. I felt the pressure shift from one uterine wall to the next.
“But, the doctor last week said I was miscarrying, and that it would only be a matter of days” I responded. That was five days ago. The appointment I went to eager to see the first photos of my baby, only to find out the heart had stopped beating. The appointment that left me shocked and numb. Hit by a truck without yet feeling the full impact of pain.
“Yes, but you aren’t right now.” Again, flat, plain, no affect. Dismissive.
I hadn’t met this doctor before. She was young, maybe younger than me. She had blonde hair that she hadn’t brushed that morning. I imagined her chewing a wad of bubble gum, snapping it in-between her sentences.
“I’m confused. What’s happening to my baby then?” What’s happening to my body? Is this normal?
She removed the wand from my uterus, wiped it off, set it back in its holster. She moved back even farther away from me, now that we weren’t attached to one another by a medical instrument. She leaned against the wall which I took to naturally mean that I could sit up now. Her latex gloves snapped off. She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“If you haven’t naturally miscarried by next week, call us and we will have you come in to induce it.”
“So, I am miscarrying?”
“Come in next week if you haven’t miscarried, and we will help with that.”
“Are you saying that I am losing my baby?”
“No. But if you haven’t miscarried naturally by next week, come back to the office and we can administer medication to induce it.”
Clearly repeating the same question to her wasn’t getting me very far.
“I’m really confused. Am I having a miscarriage or not?”
“No, you aren’t having a miscarriage. Clearly. But there is no heartbeat and there should be one by now.”
Clearly? Nothing was clear for me at this time! I’m sure I was one woman in a line of women she had seen in the same condition. But this a first time for me. I was clueless.
“OK, so if I haven’t miscarried naturally by next week, I come see you?” She nodded yes. “Essentially I’m not pregnant at this point?”
“Well, no. You are. And if you’re in pain, take Motrin.”
Motrin? You mean, the drug that every pregnancy book tells us not to take?
“How can I take Motrin if I’m pregnant?”
“If you’re in pain, take Motrin.”
“OK. Can I drink coffee? Or alcohol?”
She suddenly startled, shaking her head. Her mouth appeared to hang open, her eyes growing wider by the millisecond. “You shouldn’t ever drink alcohol.”
Seriously?
“But you can always drink coffee.”
“I thought pregnant women were supposed to limit their caffeine intake?”
She stared ahead, as if to say “failure to compute.” Was I imagining her start to fray? She then responded: “Go home and relax. Take Motrin for pain. If you don’t miscarry naturally by next week, give us a call and we will induce the miscarriage.”
I gave it one last shot. I just wanted to hear that I would not be giving birth in seven months.
“Please be upfront with me. Will I be delivering this baby in seven months?”
“Go home and relax. If you don’t miscarry naturally, give us a call. It’s nice to meet you.”
And with that, she left the exam room.
Sadly, this is one of many unprofessional encounters with a medical provider. This was certainly the worst encounter, the most shame inducing. Other encounters have included doctors saying things to me like:
“This is just nature’s way.”
“You’ll try again soon.”
“You’ll forget all about this baby when you have your next baby.”
“You really don’t want to try again?”
My hope is that more medical and mental health providers will learn the importance of language in our pregnancy loss.
When providers speak to us this way, we can internalize this, and ultimately, start speaking poorly to ourselves. As a result, we feel more anxious, more depressed, and more shame surrounding our pregnancy loss.
Last year, I offered a 14-day course for our paid subscribers on targeting our inner monologues and self-talk in the wake of our losses. Starting today, I am going to make this course available to all subscribers of The Miscarriage Therapist. This course covers:
How we speak to ourselves
How we “allow” others to speak to us
Extending grace to ourselves in our negative self-talk
Extending empathy toward others
The language surrounding pregnancy loss
Check your inbox every day to join us in this work.
I hope you all find this course helpful! Please share your comments, ask questions, or even work together. I would love to hear from you!