[Editor’s Note: Warrior Mom Stacey shares how little her obstetrician did to help her when she shared how much she was suffering from postpartum anxiety and panic attacks. Another in our series about reaching out for help and not getting much of it. -Katherine]
Dear Dr. C,
You seemed knowledgeable enough when I first interviewed you to be my obstetrician. We were having fertility problems and you prescribed me Clomid; we were pregnant the next month!
I should have seen it coming when you made me wait one to two hours in your waiting room at every visit, just to talk to me for five minutes. I understand that you have to be with your patients who are in labor, but that long of a wait every time seemed ridiculous!
When I went into labor, I looked for you constantly. I wanted your reassurance that everything was going to be okay. After a relatively quick eight-hour labor, you showed up basically to pull my daughter from my body and into the world. Then you sewed me up and walked out, with a shake of the hand to my husband and father. But hello? What about me, your patient?
I started feeling overwhelmed and anxious in the hospital. By the second night, I couldn’t sleep at all. The nurses called you and, even though I was formula feeding, the best you could give me was a shot of Benadryl. Really? Of course, all that did was make me drowsy during my postpartum panic attacks, which was not the result I was hoping for.
We took our beautiful daughter home, and for six weeks I experienced basically one solid panic attack. What if we ran out of diapers or formula? What if I’m screwing her up for life? I looked forward to discussing all of this with you at my six-week check-up. Again, I had to wait more than an hour, and when I told you about how miserable I felt, you prescribed me .25 mg of an anti-anxiety medication. That was it. The medication did nothing for me.
My friends and parents saw how “off” I was and helped me find a therapist and a psychiatrist so that I could (and did) get REAL help. As I recovered, I made a pledge to myself to educate you and your staff about postpartum depression and anxiety. I was fortunate enough to find Postpartum Progress, and they had downloadable awareness tools. I made several copies and then made an appointment. I ended up seeing your physician’s assistant, which was a turn of good luck. She was sensitive and empathetic, and was eager to learn about what I went through. Last I heard, she arranged for a presentation to be done at your office about PPD and its related disorders. As a result, you now know about these diagnoses and what to do about them.
I’m still sad that I had to be the one to make the move to educate you, but I hope that your present and future patients will have a much better experience with you and your staff.
~ Stacey Glaesmann
Good for you for being so proactive and helping to educate them! Just think how many women in the future could be helped by that!
I just sit here absolutely boggled that in todays day and age of "advanced" medical care – there are so many women who suffer, and they're doctors are just clueless! I am just so thrilled that PP or antenatal mood disorders are being talked about more and more, and women are getting the help they need. Oh yeah – and the doctors will get the help they need to help us. Thank God I had midwives who told me what was wrong with me. I can't even imagine having an OB/midwife that told you what you were going through would be fixed by Benedryl! (I only wish that were true!)
That makes me incredibly sad that medical professionals are receiving very little training in medical school or in practice about this. I cannot believe in this day and age that it's still in the dark.
I had a similar experience and am so glad that you did something about it!! At least you can look back on the experience knowing that you did make a difference for other women who continue to see Dr. C. Nice job 🙂
It infuriates me reading stories like these. How many women were turned down or not taken seriously? I'm so glad that you took charge. Good for you.
BRAVO!!!!!!
From what I read so far I already feel some relief. I too also suffer from depression and intrusive images of sexual nature in my head it grosses me out it terrifies me and I get tense and major anxiety over it. I suffered with it for month and months with only sharing little bit with doctors and friend and family. I felt to embarrassed to tell exactly what was being played out in my head it’s like watching your worste fear flashing trough ur mind over and over again. I prayed so hard all the time I cried and cried and wished it would go away. My sister found this site and sent me a link. I then read a story that was similar to mine. I instantly started to cry in relief. And realized that it’s not just me and I’m not a bad mom and I wasn’t alone in my suffering. Few months went on and I still remained to have sever intrusive images and thoughts. I talked to my doctor and he decided to put me on loxipine. I swear by it this was a meracle drug it took away my intrusive thoughts almost completely it went from 50 times a day to about maybe once a week or when I stopped my meds. Any advice I can give to anyone suffering the same thing is know ur not those thoughts and images u will not harm your kid and ur good parent that lives your kids. Don’t give into those thoughts or images. Try out different meds can’t hurt to try. And ur not alone. God bless
Thirty years ago, I was in a position similar to what you describe. I had an OB who seemed like a good enough doctor when I was seeing him for prenatal visits, but who basically ghosted on me following the birth of my son. I developed severe post partum anxiety and depression, which manifested in extreme religiosity and a complete inability to sleep, or to think about anything other than the fact that I was just going to die and go to hell at the end. I spent hours poring though the phone book, calling pastors and Christian friends, trying to find reassurance. I also read the Bible obsessively. I cringe now when I remember, but it was a long time ago, and I was not in my right mind. Thankfully, I never had any urges to hurt my baby or myself, but it was a miserable, horrible time. To this day, I remember thinking of a girl in high school I’d considered to be my “worst enemy “, and how I’d literally not wish that on her.
I called my doctor, and told him I was having difficulty sleeping. He prescribed me several Dalmane, which was a potent barbiturate. It knocked me completely out, but it wasn’t “good” sleep, and it did nothing to assuage the anxiety attacks I experienced all day, every day. So, then he gave me a prescription for a few Valium, and that was actually somewhat helpful, but when I called him back to see if I could get any more, he informed me that this wasn’t possible, and did nothing to follow up with me. I was on my own. So, I turned to alcohol, which actually helped the most. I’d already given up nursing around the third week of my son’s life, because he’d actually lost weight at his week check up. There was no support to help me continue, and I was actually shamed for even trying.
I was so disheartened by the poor care, I didn’t even bother with my six weeks post natal visit. I just muddled along, continued to drink myself blind several nights a week, and enjoyed very few moments of motherhood.
Never did I plan on having any more children, so horrible was my birth and post natal experience. (Oh yes, by the way, this same doctor had me vaginally deliver my breech son, cut me below from front to back, and sent me home with no pain killers. The first time I had a bowel movement, I screamed for an hour in agony.) But, I fell in love, married a man who wanted a baby, and proceeded to make decisions that gave me a beautiful little second son and a birth experience made of elation. I spent weeks after his (rather difficult but fairly normal) birth on a cloud of joy and happiness. Total opposite, and I loved my new doctor! He was old school yet modern at the same time, and showed so much compassion and understanding. We both decided that breastfeeding wasn’t a good option for me, and although I was a little sad about it, my bottle fed baby was and is healthy as a farm horse.
I always try to be there for anybody I know who has just given birth. If I can help one new mom get necessary help, then my experience wasn’t for naught.
Oh, and the “baby” whose birth led to such a terrible state of mind for me is the most awesome, amazing, funny, smart, hard working and lovable thirty year old man. I wasn’t a very good mom when he was little, but over the years, I have steadily improved my relationship with him. The birth of his baby brother almost twenty years ago changed me for the better, and they both love spending time with me, and know I’d take a bullet for either one of them. My boys are my life and I thank God I came through that mess, smiling and enjoying my wonderful children.