Thursday, October 01
Reflection: Over the past several weeks, I’ve been trying to advocate for myself with my medical providers in a way that I haven’t before. And for me, that has required preparation. I’ve been keeping track of patterns in my physical symptoms- what hurts, when it hurts, what makes it better, what makes it worse, and how it is affecting my ability to function.
I’ve also been rehearsing what I want to say before I walk into an appointment. Not because I don’t know my own experience, but because sometimes, when you’ve spent years feeling dismissed, not believed, or leaving appointments without answers, it can become difficult to trust your own voice when you finally have someone sitting in front of you asking, “So, what brings you into the office today?”
I know I’m not alone in that. For many women who have experienced infertility, reproductive health issues, or childlessness not by choice, there can be years of appointments and tests and waiting and still not having clear answers. At some point, you can start wondering if you’re asking for too much. Maybe you should just deal with it. Maybe this is simply the way your body is.
This past week, I decided I wasn’t going to do that. I knew what I wanted to say. I had paid attention to my body. I had kept track of what was happening. And I had rehearsed the things I was afraid I might forget once I was sitting in that room. Then something happened that I hadn’t expected. I felt heard.
I had a compassionate visit with a provider who listened to me, took what I was saying seriously, and helped me begin to understand what the path forward might look like. I was so grateful because there is a plan now, and I have a sense of direction. There are still things to figure out, but I walked out of that appointment feeling very different than I did walking in.
And then I came across this quote: The universe is always conspiring for you and for your highest good. I started thinking about what it would actually mean for me to believe that, because there have certainly been times when I have felt the complete opposite. My life didn’t unfold the way it seemed to unfold for many of the other women in my life. I thought my body would do certain things that it ultimately could not do. And when you are told you are going through menopause at 33 years old, it can become very easy to create a story that life - or the universe, or whatever word you use for something larger than yourself - is somehow working against you.
So why am I still carrying that belief? And how does it serve me? What if there is another path in life for me? I believe that in order for me to find the path meant for me, I have to radically shift my perspective, challenge some of the meaning I attach to pain, and interrupt my negative self-talk. It also requires me to embrace this path as it unfolds and not consider it a consolation prize. Deep within me, I know there are still people, experiences, opportunities, passions, and parts of myself that are aligned for me that I haven’t even discovered yet.
Which leads me back to this question: How would I walk through my life differently if I genuinely believed that good things are still possible for me? Would I notice opportunities I might otherwise overlook? I have a feeling that if this became a belief - and a mantra I practiced regularly - it would help me trust myself more. It might help me have more confidence in my voice and in my decisions.
If I truly believed this, maybe I would rehearse my words more intentionally and remind myself that I want to radically accept the path I am on right now because this is where I am. Maybe it would help me imagine a future version of myself who stands more firmly in the knowledge that no one knows my life - or my body - better than I do. I am the expert in my own life.
To be clear, practicing this shift in perspective doesn’t mean having all the answers. I certainly don’t. But I do know what I have experienced. I know what hurts. I know when something has changed. And I know when I need help. I am learning that advocating for myself doesn’t require me to prove that my experience is real before I am allowed to ask someone to pay attention to it.
Maybe believing that the universe is conspiring for my highest good doesn’t mean believing everything will turn out exactly the way I want it to. I’ve lived enough life to know that isn’t true. It means believing that my life can still hold things that are good for me, even when they aren’t the things I originally planned. That requires trust, even when things hurt. But trust isn’t passive. Trust can look like making the appointment. Writing down your symptoms. Rehearsing what you want to say. Having questions ready to ask your provider. Speaking up when something doesn’t feel right. I know that trying again after an experience that made you afraid to try again can be difficult and exhausting. But I want to believe that my voice, and your voice, deserves to take up space in the room - Adriana Rodriguez- Baptiste, LCSW
Subscriber Spotlight:
Self Care Tip: Before your next medical appointment, take a few minutes to write down what you’ve been noticing, how it’s affecting your daily life, and what you want help understanding. Bring the notes with you. Rehearse what you want to say if that helps you feel more grounded. You don’t have to remember everything in the moment, and you don’t have to make a perfect case for why you deserve care.Your experience is information. Your questions matter. And your voice deserves space in the room.
