not all fun and games

unfortunately, psych isn’t just the patients who say off-the-wall comments or insult you out of the blue. today was one of those days where you see a person suffer.

today, i heard the story of a woman who had suffered her fourth miscarriage. the room we walked into was dimly illuminated by the few rays of sunshine that not only made it through the gray midwestern sky, but also through the tightly-closed blinds. the woman laid in bed with her husband by her side in a vastly empty room. just down the hall, if the door was open, you could hear the cries of newly born babies with their mothers and families, a stark contrast to this woman’s experience.

here she lay, and here she was questioned by the resident. after sitting in on this interview, i thank god that it was him and not me, because i do not doubt i would have broke into tears at the sight of her husband break down as he described the beautiful nursery they prepared for their last baby that was still-born. They were so hopeful with the previous baby, who made it to at least 8 months, only to pass away. The woman was so scarred she wouldn’t allow anyone to even buy socks or other baby clothes until she held this baby in her arms.

she tried to cope with the previous loss on her own. after pushing away so many in her life, she admitted defeat with this final blow. she wants to talk about it with someone. will she want to try again? i won’t ever know, and i doubt she does yet. today’s interview was only to offer the her the help she might need.

that kind of pain is unimaginable.

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