Before I decided that my only child would be my last, I agonized for years over what my family and friends would think of me. Would they call me selfish or uncaring for not giving my kid a sibling, a so-called ?built-in friend for life?" The reason I decided not to have a second child is simply because, from a mental health perspective, I needed to be able to survive.
When I was diagnosed with endometriosis and polycystic ovary syndrome in my 20s, my doctors said I might never be able to conceive. But against all odds, I got pregnant after just five months of trying. My partner and I were thrilled at the news, but almost immediately, my natural, low-level anxiety amped up into something I didn?t recognize. At a subsequent appointment with my OB/GYN, I confessed that my anxious feelings were getting out of control and taking over my life. I told her about how I would regularly sit on the edge of the bathtub at home, sobbing and worrying over what could go wrong with the pregnancy. I was terrified that I would lose the baby. She immediately referred me to a hospital clinic that specialized in reproductive transitions and, eventually, I saw a psychiatrist. Looking back now, I should have realized that I was at risk for a mood disorder during pregnancy. I had my first instance of clinical depression as a teen, and several episodes afterwards. I?d taken antidepressants on and off for years. And whenever life threw me a curveball, I automatically turned to therapists. My new...