Not Healthy, Not Happy
Posted by fxckfeelings on May 17, 2009
When everything in life seems to be going wrong, somebody’s bound to assure you, “at least you’ve got your health.” The problem is, no matter how much yoga we do and kale we choke down, we can never really control how healthy we are. Here are two cases of people who, in one way or another, are worrying themselves sick.
–Dr. Lastname
My husband and I just got pregnant, and while our parents are overjoyed, husband and his family keep ribbing me about my birth plan, and it’s starting to piss me off. Mainly, they think I’m stupid or something because I want a homebirth, and while my husband supports my decision—which I came to after reading some books, talking to friends, etc.—he’s made it clear that he thinks a conventional delivery would be smarter (and his mother now calls me “flower child” to my face, which isn’t funny, just weird). Conventional medicine isn’t always right, especially when it comes to taking into account the psychic scars that come from delivering a child in a sterile environment where s/he isn’t allowed to bond with his/her mother immediately, etc, etc. I just want to make sure that I have that our child is healthy and happy from his/her first second, and I hate that my husband thinks that this is a joke. My goal is to get him on board to put our baby’s health first and his stupid preconceptions second.
The scary thing about getting pregnant is knowing how much of your future happiness depends on having a healthy baby, and how powerless you are to guarantee that future. Of course, you do the usual—good nutrition, medical screening, no alcohol—but, in the end, there’s a natural process at work that goes wrong a certain percentage of the time regardless of prayer, diligence, organic this or holistic that. That’s life in its rawest form.
Our usual human reaction to such mortal helplessness is to invent and believe in various methods of control–some of which are incompatible with others–and then wage war with those who got it wrong, all of which splits the family and intensifies blame when something goes wrong. Welcome to why parenting is so hard.
Ultimately, the problem is not the many things you have to do to keep kids safe and healthy, it’s the many things you can’t do because they won’t help, and the way helpless parents turn on one another and other caregivers.
You feel that your husband and his family don’t respect your judgment or care about your feelings; if you tell them, they’ll feel that you have become irrational and rigid. Your anger will drive them away, push them together, and leave you isolated.
Your goal of a safe baby, or a safe child, is dangerous for that reason. It can destroy the potential team of loving caregivers that you want to build as head of a new family and make you (and them) responsible for whatever bad luck happens next.
The proper goal is to do what you can to make your baby safe while tolerating the notion that there’s terrible risk lurking in the background, no matter what you do, and that each action you or your husband propose will have a small, not large, benefit as well as a potential, unavoidable risk.
For instance, birthing at home may reduce your anxiety (and less anxiety is good for your baby) and protect you from hospital-borne infections; but there’s also a risk that, in a crisis, you’ll be farther away from acute medical care. Rather than arguing over which way is right or wrong or relying on the opinions of friends, read up on the relative risks or ask experts and then consider how to manage them.
If you prefer home delivery, then take extra care to rule out a high risk pregnancy and prepare a plan in case one develops. This is what a good midwife does. The sad part about this process is that you realize there’s no safety, just relative safety. The good part is that there’s nothing to fight over because everyone wants safety and differences become negotiable.
You might feel entitled to special consideration because you’re a new mother and your feelings are affected by hormones, but your feelings, regardless of your status, are as fuck-worthy as any others.
As leader of a new family, you don’t want to alienate potential resources until you decide what’s worth fighting about and how to do it diplomatically. Yes, your feelings are painful, intense, and unavoidable. But you have long-term interests that are more important than expressing your feelings. Like being a good mom.
STATEMENT:
Choose your method of delivery as carefully and rationally as possible so that you can assure yourself that, whatever happens, you’ve done what you think is right. Then, if your family disagrees, you don’t need to argue. Compose a statement to protect yourself from having to argue with inner doubts or outward criticism. “There’s no perfectly safe way to deliver a baby, but I’ve done my research, chosen the way that works best for me, and it’s my call. I accept that others may disagree and become negative in the process and that their disagreement may cause me pain. I will let them know I appreciate their concern, have given their ideas a lot of thought, and made my decision for my own reasons. I will not seek their agreement, approval, or apology. I will stop further discussion respectfully. If their words leave me feeling hurt or humiliated, I will credit myself with restraint for the sake of managing family relationships.”
Six months ago, I got diagnosed with a neurological disorder; my doctor says that I have at least ten more years, but that my motor functions are going to gradually get worse, and that, while they have some medications that can take care of the symptoms, the disease itself has no cure. Right now, I don’t have any symptoms at all—I still play tennis, go for walks with my wife, play with my grandson–but there are very few moments during the day that I don’t worry about what’s going to inevitably happen to me, and it ruins everything, even and especially the activities I just mentioned. I feel like I’ve been given a death sentence, and when I’m not trying to maintain my old, normal life, I’m researching the disease, talking to doctors, doing everything I can to prepare for what’s coming, which, while intended to make me feel better, seems to be doing the opposite. I want to be able to find a way to overcome all this anxiety and ignore the axe hanging over my head.
As I always say, it’s never a good goal to make anxiety go away, because you don’t control it and thinking you should will make you focus on fear rather than bigger priorities. Besides, anxiety can be good for you, as long as you don’t panic; it makes you try harder, pay more attention, and absorb more information.
But look at the great job you’re doing at sticking with your bigger priorities while also learning everything you can about your medical condition. You’re spending time with the people that count, fooling around as usual, and protecting them and your relationships from fear. You’re not letting it force you to withdraw or waste time on things you can’t change. You, of all people, should realize what an achievement that is.
Anxiety tells you that it ruins everything because it interferes with your usual peace and happiness…and that’s a typical lie. It can ruin your pleasure, but not your pride in how you live your life. If you were less courageous, fear could drive you into self-obsessed isolation and change who you are, but it hasn’t. Illness is only an issue of life-and-death; it can’t affect what you do with your life and how you use your values to make decisions.
I probably don’t need to tell you this, but time is short. Use your new awareness of its shortness to review your priorities; if you were focused on making money or winning competitions, you might well find that other things matter more. But you already have priorities that don’t need changing, so draw on your solid foundation to fight fear. Don’t let your death get in the way of your life.
STATEMENT:
Compose a statement to protect yourself from fear’s lies. “I know I have a debilitating, incurable illness and I can imagine suffering and death ahead, but I also know I’ve done meaningful things in my life, I have relationships that matter, and I know how to live and pursue what I value. Those have been my goals, regardless of how long I have to live, and pain and helplessness has not and will not change them. My goal was never to live forever or be any healthier than I could be. It was to do what was important each day, using the resources I had. Nothing will change.”
