Doctors.
"You're just unlucky, twice." Those were the words from my OB/GYN. They were followed by, "We don't start testing until you've had three."
My heart sank. Sucking the last little hope I had. My doctor wasn't going to help me until I had another confirmed miscarriage. Our baby made it to 13 weeks but only measured 9 weeks, meaning it took my body that long to start the process of miscarrying. The reason we went to the hospital was spotting.
I was horrified. My doctor would stand on the sidelines while I suffered this traumatic experience, again. A miscarriage, no matter at what point it occurs (because a woman's body instantly changes her hormones even if you don't notice), is still hard.
I've avoided the topic of doctors for a reason. I lost faith in them! Two years after my first miscarriage, I found a fertility specialist nearby and scheduled an appointment. These people, it was rumored, could nearly guarantee a viable pregnancy. A little bit more expensive and I would have to fight my insurance to get the appointment half-way covered but it was worth the struggle knowing I could have a baby. One on the first thing the doctor says, "You have endometriosis. I can feel scarring." I have what?! So the doctor tells me to schedule another appointment and we'll go through the "game plan".
In the meantime, a family member told me about a different doctor. M.D. and all but he focuses on holistic health. (Am I sounding crunchy yet?) So I paid the small fee and went to his office. I was skeptical and nervous. I was overloaded by his knowledge and by the time I left I was confused. He told me so many things the specialist didn't even bring up.
I did this game of back and forth for a few weeks. I'll spare you the boring details. What it boiled down to was this: The specialist did have a plan. A very extensive plan. It started with taking birth control. Now, the good Lord already laid it on my heart not to be on birth control. Second, I was put on the drug due to intense periods when I was very young and was convinced it was the reason I lost my babies. Honestly, nothing the specialist said felt right. My medicine was either super cheap or free because they were handing these samples out to EVERYONE. I ended up with 3 or 4 prescriptions.
Since the specialist totally contradicted the naturalist I was stuck. What do I do?
It all came down to the naturalist. He eased my worries then explained why my medicine was cheap. I told him as much. He went on about horse progesterone. (A hormone my body does not make enough of, especially when trying to keep a pregnancy and the cause of endo). I didn't tell the naturalist where the medicine was coming from but he already knew. He debunked the specialist but more importantly he told me why what the specialist was giving me was wrong.
I never went back to the specialist. The naturalist was far more competent. Within three months, I conceived and carried a viable pregnancy to 38 weeks. It took years for God's plan to make sense for me. I was so focused dwelling on my pain, grief, and struggle; I was in a never-ending spiral (in part I believe was PPD). I couldn't just trust God's plan, I had to make my own and it lead to heartache, one I wouldn't wish on anyone.
My heart sank. Sucking the last little hope I had. My doctor wasn't going to help me until I had another confirmed miscarriage. Our baby made it to 13 weeks but only measured 9 weeks, meaning it took my body that long to start the process of miscarrying. The reason we went to the hospital was spotting.
I was horrified. My doctor would stand on the sidelines while I suffered this traumatic experience, again. A miscarriage, no matter at what point it occurs (because a woman's body instantly changes her hormones even if you don't notice), is still hard.
I've avoided the topic of doctors for a reason. I lost faith in them! Two years after my first miscarriage, I found a fertility specialist nearby and scheduled an appointment. These people, it was rumored, could nearly guarantee a viable pregnancy. A little bit more expensive and I would have to fight my insurance to get the appointment half-way covered but it was worth the struggle knowing I could have a baby. One on the first thing the doctor says, "You have endometriosis. I can feel scarring." I have what?! So the doctor tells me to schedule another appointment and we'll go through the "game plan".
In the meantime, a family member told me about a different doctor. M.D. and all but he focuses on holistic health. (Am I sounding crunchy yet?) So I paid the small fee and went to his office. I was skeptical and nervous. I was overloaded by his knowledge and by the time I left I was confused. He told me so many things the specialist didn't even bring up.
I did this game of back and forth for a few weeks. I'll spare you the boring details. What it boiled down to was this: The specialist did have a plan. A very extensive plan. It started with taking birth control. Now, the good Lord already laid it on my heart not to be on birth control. Second, I was put on the drug due to intense periods when I was very young and was convinced it was the reason I lost my babies. Honestly, nothing the specialist said felt right. My medicine was either super cheap or free because they were handing these samples out to EVERYONE. I ended up with 3 or 4 prescriptions.
Since the specialist totally contradicted the naturalist I was stuck. What do I do?
It all came down to the naturalist. He eased my worries then explained why my medicine was cheap. I told him as much. He went on about horse progesterone. (A hormone my body does not make enough of, especially when trying to keep a pregnancy and the cause of endo). I didn't tell the naturalist where the medicine was coming from but he already knew. He debunked the specialist but more importantly he told me why what the specialist was giving me was wrong.
I never went back to the specialist. The naturalist was far more competent. Within three months, I conceived and carried a viable pregnancy to 38 weeks. It took years for God's plan to make sense for me. I was so focused dwelling on my pain, grief, and struggle; I was in a never-ending spiral (in part I believe was PPD). I couldn't just trust God's plan, I had to make my own and it lead to heartache, one I wouldn't wish on anyone.
Comments
Post a Comment