I’ve been on the hunt for a new therapist. It’s no fun, let me tell you.
My old therapist moved practices, and that was the end of that. Unfortunate, but it happens. For awhile, I floated around in the in between — managing my anxiety with all of my healthy coping mechanisms (and some unhealthy ones — ice cream much?), dealing with life issues as they came up and generally just treading water. The treading has turned into a slow sink as of late, so I thought it best to try to find someone new.
I sent emails off to a few “big practices” in the area asking if anyone in their network had any experience with birth parents in open adoption and GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder). One big practice didn’t take the time to reply (don’t have an email address if you’re not going to reply, big practices) and one therapist from the other big practice did reply; he does have birth parent in open adoption AND GAD experience. Wow.
But, he’s a dude.
Before I mentally addressed that sticking point, however, I logged onto my health insurance website and pulled up therapists in our area.
All dudes. And the male therapist who took the time to reply (and with whom I had an interesting exchange that lead to adoption niche blogging) is not covered by insurance. Swell.
Sigh.
I have male trust issues as it is, and the fact that I have had any male doctors ever is shocking to me. (When you’re a high risk pregnancy, you take what is available, just so you know.) Add in the fact that the first therapist I tried to see years back — male — told me that this would be “easy to get over” and you’ll see why I’m not quick to jump on the Male Therapist Train.
And so, here I am. Aware that I need some outside help to work through some things — mostly anxiety, some adoption — but unable to find any help. We have adoption agencies promising expectant mothers considering relinquishment that they’ll provide them with post-placement care. They’re also promised that the grief and loss associated with relinquishment will fade over the years. And while that grief and loss might not be as intense, it’s a life-long thing to work through, to make sense of, to feel. Providing “one year” of therapy for a birth parent is simply not enough. Here I am, eight years out, and still needing help to figure out what to do with all of this… and I’m simply unable to locate that help.
It’s frustrating, discouraging and generally not all that great for my anxiety.
(Of note about my slow sink: I’m okay. I’m just aware that it’s time to do something new. Everyone breathe.)
My name is Jenna. I blog here, 
