This is Post #3 in my Breastfeeding and Mental Health series. Today I am honoured to have a guest post from Arwyn at Raising My Boychick who shares her experience of a meeting with her psychiatrist when she was considering having a baby and breastfeeding. The other posts in this series can be found here, here and here.
I Never Went Back
I don’t know how to tell this story. On the surface, it doesn’t seem so bad — just another case of an ignorant douchebag doctor being an ignorant douchebag; no especial reason for me to have wound up sitting on the floor of my mother’s office, sobbing into her skirts. No real reason I should still be carrying around this pain, which clenches around my heart when I think about it. Certainly to an outsider, it must seem like “not a big deal”. And yes, my reaction was extreme, a symptom of my instability at the time. And yet, that’s the point, isn’t it? If it isn’t safe to be crazy around a psychiatrist, then who can we be vulnerable around? Psych workers should be held to higher standards, and they need to understand how seemingly “small” remarks can have a large, lasting impact on those they work with. This is why my story — my small, seemingly insignificant story — is worth sharing.
I had been seeing this psychiatrist friend of my mom for a couple years, since I first sought help for my bipolar disorder. As a fellow physician, he offered her the “professional courtesy” of seeing me without out of pocket costs, even when I had no insurance. He’d even given me several months’ worth of “samples” of my medication, which would have cost hundreds if not thousands of dollars full-price at a pharmacy. I liked him well enough, and trusted him well enough — even if he didn’t get the full truth, because some things I could only say out loud very recently. I had no more defenses against him than I did against myself (which is to say, some, but none I would admit to at that point). I had no reason to expect anything but professionalism. I had excepted to be respected. I had expected to be safe.
Which is why, when I talked to him about my oh-so-tentative plans for pregnancy and breastfeeding and attempted to discuss options for medication management through that time, I wasn’t expecting to be told “Oh, I wouldn’t have you breastfeeding on anything. Formula is fine, and we don’t know what these drugs do to developing brains.” I wasn’t expecting the fight-or-flight adrenaline spike sitting there in that quiet room; I wasn’t expecting the panic attack as I realized I was in a room with an enemy, not an ally. I wasn’t expecting to know more than the supposedly-educated man sitting across from me; I wasn’t expecting to have my knowledge so blithely, casually dismissed. I was expecting a rational discussion of what my options might be, of how best to balance my medication needs and the potential risks to my maybe-baby; I wasn’t expecting that.
I still don’t remember how I got out of there. I don’t remember what I said; I’m fairly sure I did not say what was going through my head, because I didn’t start yelling and raving until later. I must have gone into fully walled-off protection mode, and probably smiled, and nodded, and mouthed whatever I thought he wanted to hear. Somehow, I walked out, trust and sanity in tatters, dignity and pride tied around me, holding me together. Somehow, I walked out; I never returned. I rode the elevator down the single flight to my mother’s group office; I found her talking with her colleagues; I went back to her office and waited for her. There, just ten feet below where I had been ambushed, attacked so unknowingly, the ropes unraveled and I fell apart. I cried — great gulping sobs, fluid falling everywhere, halting, hiccup-interrupted explanations bawled into my concerned mother’s lap.
I was so angry. Hurt, yes; shocked, shaky, unstable, yes; but angry. I was angry at his ignorance — in fact, we know formula causes harm to developing brains, and immune systems, and so much else, and we don’t know if most mood-stabilizers do anything but give babies saner mothers. I was angry that I was so easily dismissed, that he didn’t question his own assumptions, that he was so arrogant he couldn’t consider I might have a point, that I might know things he didn’t. I was angry that instead of being treated with respect as an equal, a person, I was just being treated, like a patient — like a thing.
I never went back. For the next many months, I went without med management of any kind. My dosage wasn’t great, but it was — almost — good enough. I might have done better on another dose, or another drug altogether, but I didn’t know, and had no one to tell me. I might have gone into liver failure, because I wasn’t getting my levels checked, and had no one to order the lab tests for me.
I eventually got stable — mostly through my own hard work — and found someone to oversee my weaning off the medications. In the end, I was able to go through pregnancy and breastfeeding without any of the drugs the doctor who had betrayed me said he would deny me. But if I had needed pharmaceutical assistance — or, to be more honest, if I had admitted I needed more help than I had — I had no one to turn to. I would have had to start anew, and overcome the aversion I learned on that day years before, try to learn to trust again while struggling with postpartum neurology and new life with a neonate. And all because of an off-hand assertion by a psychiatrist ignorant of normal physiology and human development, of the risks of formula and the damage of denying a woman’s right to breastfeed.
I’ve been med-free for almost five years, and breastfeeding for just over half that. I have been lucky that I have been able to avoid the psychomedical complex almost entirely since that day, but I am still angry that one physician’s ignorance and arrogance has alienated me for so long – and I’m angry at myself, no matter how nonsensical it is, for not standing up to him that day. I always wonder: how many other women and babies has he harmed with his ignorance on lactation and medication? How many other women didn’t know as much as I, and didn’t walk out, and didn’t breastfeed their babies? How many other women did walk out, and were alienated, left alone, but weren’t as lucky as I? How many needed medication they were unable to acquire for risk of being bullied into weaning?
How many of us need to speak out before there is change?
Related posts:
- Links To Some Great Breastfeeding Posts
- How Contradictory Medication Information and Advice Wrecks Breastfeeding and Moms
- Support for Breastfeeding Can Make All The Difference
- I Lied to My Shrink, and Other Hazards of Breastfeeding
- Effects of Medicated Birth on Breastfeeding
Tags: anti-depressants, bipolar disorder, disability, formula, mental health
What a powerful and honest story.
One would think with the push for mothers to come forward (so that babies are less affected from her mental illness) any doctor would be so happy with your frankness. It is too bad this wasn’t the case. Good for you and your assertiveness!
Lauralee´s last blog ..Brain-Based Learning: Introduction
Hello,
Good on you. It is really awful to have a person in a position of authority and power close the door on a genuine and very important inquiry. It would have been fantastic if he had instead said something like, “I am concerned about the possible side effects on your baby, but let me inquire further, because I may be wrong, or the science may have moved on. Maybe some medications are better than others, and maybe by paying attention to when you feed (ie, before or after taking meds) can help too. Let me see if there is any research on this. Hell- maybe we could look into it together.”
Perhaps in time you might feel less traumatised by this incident if you use the anger it has sparked in you (which is eminently justifiable) to write to a few organisations or psychiatrists with a public profile, and encourage them to begin a dialogue on this issue, so that at least future mothers facing this dilemma are not operating within an information vacuum. And it is definitely something La Leche League should be onto. There seems to be a real dearth of information. You could perhaps suggest that La Leche and whatever the main mental health/depression organisation is in the US get together and produce a joint publication. That’s the problem with many of these things – organisations operate in “silos” or in isolation and avoid issues of overlap.
Good luck. And well done. You are amazing.
eeloh´s last blog ..Our woman in BA
I read this over on Raising my Boychick, too, and I think Arwyn’s story is so valuable.
I have heard from many people, time and again, about the dangers of taking antidepressants and breastfeeding. But I hear almost nothing about the risks that come with formula-feeding, or the way that a rapid weaning can affect a woman’s hormonal and emotional state. There are risks that are inherent in every decision that we make. In my view, it is the job of a medical professional to help us understand and assess the risks, so that we can make our own informed decisions. It is NOT the job of the medical professional to make those decisions for us, in the normal course of events.
Amber´s last blog ..Jacob’s Breastfeeding Story
Ya know a friend of mine had a very similar experience with a Pediatrician – and the Dr wound up calling CPS on her. It was a nightmare. I cannot believe the amount of people in the medical profession who are anti-breastfeeding. I am so sorry that this happened to you. I would say that you have every right to be angry – that guy mistreated you and if it were not for your own intelligence and perseverance he would have won.
Upstatemomof3´s last blog ..Dear Little Sister
ugg….The Doc didn’t seem to notice that she WanTED to breastfeed. Wherer is the listen to the paitent!
I have never had a couselor that didn’t asert their own prejudices on my choices.
Naomi´s last blog ..Our Halloween Costumes
Thank you for prompting me to write this, Melodie. I hadn’t really realized how profoundly the experience had affected me until I started writing it out. That was actually the last psychiatrist I saw — I saw a psych nurse twice (bad experience for different reasons — although again it was a case of not listening to me), and an OD family physician with a mental health specialty oversaw my weaning off the meds. I honestly haven’t been back to see any psychiatrist since that day. Wow.
And thanks for the comments and the support. It means a lot to me.
I also wanted to say that what finally made the difference for me (and I’m not saying it would work for everyone) is high concentrate omega 3 fish oil. It works better at mood stabilization for me than the “oh so dangerous” medications, and it’s not only safe during breastfeeding, it’s GOOD for babies’ brains. I would have been thrilled if the psychiatrist had mentioned omega 3s (which are well supported in the scientific literature) as a possibility to try, instead of just belittling and sacrificing breastfeeding at the altar of psychotropic medications.
Arwyn´s last blog ..I never went back: on psychiatric ignorance of breastfeeding
[...] never went back: on psychiatric ignorance of breastfeeding I wrote this piece (cross-posted) for Melodie at Breastfeeding Moms Unite! She’s running a series on mental health and [...]
@Arwyn,
I love that a food source is something you have found to work for you. There is a lot of scientific support for nutritional supplements, vitamins, etc to treat mental illness and yet in my own experience advocating for clients I have found that it is the least supported treatment method out there. I have never understood why.
You had every right to be angry.
When the checkout lady at my OB office offhandedly sai “ah well you can always keep the formula samples just in case breastfeedign doesn’t work out” I definitely got a flight or fight response. My face got red, my heart raced and I still htink about it to this day with anger 6 months later. I said as calmly as possible that I would not need the samples and I would most definitely nurse for at least a year” She didn’t say anything to that!
[...] is post #2 in my Mental Health and Breastfeeding series. The other posts can be found here, here and [...]
[...] is Post #1 in my Mental Health and Breastfeeding series. The other posts can be found here, here and [...]
Things like this make me so mad and not for the reasons you think. So since I know I cannot breastfeed should I not keep the baby I’m carrying? I am physically unable to breastfeed so should I just give my baby to someone that can so I don’t damage her?
@billie – Just out of curiosity how do you know you are physically unable to breastfeed? You very well may be, but many, many mothers have been told that for the wrong reasons, by well meaning but uninformed health care professionals, so I’m curious.
Obviously you should not give up your baby. If it’s the not being able to breastfeed part that concerns you, what good would it do to send the baby to someone else who is even less likely to breastfeed a non-biological child? It is possible to breastfeed an adopted baby but not many women do.
I personally think that formula should be made available to moms and babies who really need it. Afterall, it is a breastmilk substitute. My problem with formula is when parents are given faulty information about formula, when doctors and nurses push it when it isn’t warranted, when health care professionals personally don’t know the difference because they weren’t properly trained in breastfeeding education, when moms use it because they lacked sufficient support and/or resources and felt there was no other way, but the problem stemmed not from their failures but the failures of a system that doesn’t support or respect the breastfeeding relationship between a mother and her child. But if you NEED formula – that’s what it’s there for and I don’t think you should be made to feel guilty if that truly is your only option.
[...] is #4 in my series on Mental Health and Breastfeeding. The other posts can be found here, here and here. Ruth was one of the first breastfeeding moms I made friends with on Twitter. Her talent for [...]