I was unprepared for the experience that awaited me during my annual checkup. As I sat in the stark, chilly room wearing just a flimsy hospital gown, I felt vulnerable. When I began to share my feelings, the doctor interrupted me with a barrage of questions: “Do you exercise? When was your last date night? Are you getting eight hours of sleep? Still nursing your little one?”
While her questions might have stemmed from a place of concern, they felt more like an attempt to invalidate my struggles with postpartum depression. They came across as patronizing, and I fought against that impression. “You’ll be fine,” she insisted, “if you just do these things.” Those “things” were supposed to fix me, as if they could magically erase the monthly waves of anxiety and sadness that lingered. I felt I was fading away in front of her; my words seemed insignificant against her assertions. “It’s just part of being a woman,” she concluded.
As I listened, I felt smaller, my posture slumping as I focused on the floor. I felt exposed and foolish. But just before I left her office, I mustered the courage to look her in the eye and said, “I need you to listen to me.” It was clear she wasn’t accustomed to being challenged, and I wondered how many women had felt the same way—shrinking under her medical authority and choosing silence instead of advocating for themselves.
With renewed conviction, I expressed clearly, “It’s not about needing a date, sleep, or nursing. Something is wrong, and I need you to hear me. I still feel the effects of postpartum depression since my daughter was born, and it hasn’t truly gone away.” For the first time, she actually listened.
This moment made me realize I needed to seek out other healthcare professionals who would take my concerns seriously. Leaving that office, I thought about all the women who walk in seeking help but are dismissed. I wasn’t feeling terribly unwell, yet my plea for understanding was brushed aside. Although personal time and exercise are important, it is disheartening to be ignored when seeking help. Many doctors, thankfully, are more empathetic.
This needs to change. It takes immense courage to admit something isn’t right. It’s even harder to be told that if you just figure out how to be enough, you’ll feel better.
In my search for a new doctor, I discovered that I was still grappling with postpartum depression. While I made time for self-care and exercise, those were just pieces of the larger puzzle.
I’ve spoken with countless women who share similar experiences of feeling unheard. If you find yourself in a similar situation, know that you deserve to be listened to. There are compassionate doctors out there who will take your concerns seriously.
If you or someone you know is dealing with postpartum depression, consider visiting Postpartum Progress for more information. And if you’re interested in more topics related to conception and pregnancy, check out our other posts, like this one on home insemination here. For comprehensive resources on this subject, refer to Make a Mom, who are experts in the field. Additionally, News Medical offers valuable insights on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, seeking help for postpartum depression can be a daunting experience, especially when faced with dismissive responses from healthcare professionals. It’s essential to find a doctor who will listen and validate your feelings. Remember, you are not alone in this journey.