Anonymous
For years I’ve known that gynecologist visits would be triggering. I braced myself for pregnant women or newborns, family related magazines, couples proudly listening to CTG sounds, etc. But going to a general practitioner should not feel so bad, right? I experienced it differently. I’d like to share two encounters in hoping to see change for others in similar situations.
GP visit #1 (...in retrospect my final weeks of pursuing motherhood)
Her three daughters and six grandchildren were looking straight at me from across the room while I was trying to describe my health status, which I believed was a breakdown from the emotional toll this path towards motherhoodwas taking on me. I remember being so disturbed by the display of a „happy family”- the one I was hoping for since over a decade. Why were the pictures presented so prominently next to her framed medical degree? Should they add to her qualification or credibility? Or why else would I need to see her family smiling at me? One might call me too sensitive, but in that very moment I felt defeated by life’s circumstances and even worse I felt less than the woman sitting across from me, taking her notes. As a patient my willingness to speak openly crumbled by the minute. This did not feel like a safe space.
GP visit #2 (...three years after consciously leaving my path to motherhood)
Fast forward. A new GP. No family pictures. What a relief. Again, me in an exhausted state getting my blood tests done to rule out physical factors. I remember that I did not want to mention grief nor childlessness as a potential factor since out of experience this never went well in any area of life. But after a few sentences heavy tears came and I told her that I am permanently childless and grieving. I realized how hard the years have been for me. She tried to comfort me, with good intention I’m sure, but the sentences that followed left me speechless and outraged: “There is still hope” she said “If only you can find the courage again to pursue your deepest wish. It’s not the end. Older women become mothers”. Further she continued that I am just not emotionally ready yet to open my heart to the many other options there are to motherhood.
I was utterly shocked. For one that I was not heard and second my reality not accepted. Despite how vulnerable and exhausted I was, this pushed me into a teaching mode on the egg cell genetics of a 45-year-old woman and the honest statistics of IVF/ICSI. I could not grasp how oblivious a middle aged female medical doctor could be to these biological facts. The lack of education on fertility left me wondering. How old would I need to be for my decision to be respected? I never wanted to hear me say this sentence with such conviction. But the situation demanded it from me: “My path to motherhood is over. The decision has been made.”
For them it’s a 10-15min interaction with the patient. For me it usually meant feeling alone, misunderstood, stirring up strong emotions and leaving me heavily questioning the decisions I’ve made years back. In both cases eventually I got my blood tests. But now in hindsight I can say that I got so much more: an opportunity to share, to grow and to reflect on where I am standing now. Hopefully, we will see more sensitivity and training towards the experience of being permanently childless in the future to come.
