Today was my first (and last) hypnosis appointment. I’ve been curious about hypnosis for awhile now. I’ve read blog posts and research studies over how it can be a useful tool in childbirth, both to keep the blood pressure down and as a way to reduce the overall pain of contractions. It’s taken me awhile to find someone my insurance would cover, so I was THRILLED to finally have an appointment.

The therapist (yes, he’s a licensed psychologist) was about 10 minutes late. He came rushing down the hall, hurriedly gave his lunch order to the receptionist, and ushered me into his office. I was directed to sit in a brown leather recliner that was a cross between a dentist’s chair and Freud’s couch.

As I had anticipated, we spent some time discussing my reasons for wanting hypnosis. I explained that I knew it could help keep my blood pressure low, which will aid me in waiting till 5 cm to get my epidural, and because I wanted help processing the birth of the Menininho, because it still causes me a great deal of anxiety. The therapist had me describe what happened with the delivery, then moved on to some general medical history and finally family history.

“Well,” he said “I know it seems to you like you’re having anxiety about your upcoming birth because you had such a terrible experience with your first son’s birth. But it’s obvious to me that this goes much deeper. You clearly have some deep-seated abandonment issues stemming from your father’s illness and death, and those are just playing out in fears about your doctors treating your poorly.”

Could that BE any more Freudian?!

If this had been a regular therapy appointment I would have known that was my cue to leave. But, instead of saying “No, you’re crazy, I really am just upset about the birth,” I smiled and said “Oh! I can see how that might make sense. It never occurred to me before,” because I really wanted to get on with the hypnosis.

He went on. “There are also symbols in your life that are causing you anxiety that you probably don’t even realize. We need to figure out what those are so that you can reverse those feelings of anxiousness that happen for seemingly unknown reasons.”

Ok, fair enough.

So, the therapist reclined my chair and ran me through a quick hypnosis exercise to make sure I was hypnotizeable (or whatever the word is). That worked. “Ok, now you put yourself under,” he directed. He told me to visualize and describe my ideal birthing experience, which I did. Then, I was to visualize the opposite of that. Predictably, I became very anxious, almost came out of hypnosis, and had trouble articulating what I was seeing. He suggested I go back to the thoughts of my ideal birthing. Once I was again relaxed, he had me come out of the hypnotic state.

“Ok, well, any questions? No? Great. Here’s a list of directions…do this 3-4 times a day. Good luck with your delivery!”

Yah. That was IT. One session, like 40 minutes long. All of a sudden I’m supposed to be able to resolve all my life issues, find hidden symbols, and birth this child, all on my own. I actually think there is something unethical about introducing some potentially anxiety-producing issues to a client (the supposed connection to my father and subconscious symbols) and then shooing them out the door without access to further treatment.

Clearly, this guy was a quack. I still believe hypnosis can be useful, but it looks like it won’t be as useful for me as I’d hoped. I mean, I have no idea how to stay in the hypnotic state while anxious, let alone while I’m having painful contractions. So, if you have books to recommend that I read, please let me know! (And yes, I know about hypnobirthing and hypnobabies, but I don’t have the $300 to drop on the classes.)

Also, this post doesn’t sound as funny as I actually thought it was. It’s way funnier if I tell you in person. Just know then, that I’m not bitter but rather amused.

I had this really cool Friday Favorites post planned with articles by some of my favorite bloggers. However, it’s 1:30 in the morning and I just finished my brownie sundae after being in Labor & Delivery for several hours to rule out premature labor and long story short they couldn’t find anything wrong so I’m just supposed to “take it easy, drink a lot, and keep monitoring the symptoms.” And, I’m going to go have another brownie because every pregnant woman knows that calories certainly don’t count when you’re in a pissy mood from a condescending OB resident. Also? I just ate what I thought was a brownie crumb. Only it wasn’t. Might have been one of Menininho’s boogers. GROSS. Thanks, Kid.

Aaaaanyway, since I don’t have the time or mental energy to devote to doing the articles I was going to talk about justice, I’m just going to post the link to a nifty site called Mila’s Daydreams. It’s nifty. Makes me wish I was more creative. Or less busy. Or both.

Oh and there is something really nifty coming here tomorrow. I’m co-hosting a blog hop party with To Be Thode! And there will be PRIZES! So, come back on Saturday for a post that explains the party and then prepare to join in. You can grab the button code from my left sidebar if you’ve heard about this on Twitter and already know you want to participate. Basically, it’s a party for everyone who is not going to the BlogHer conference next week.

Menininho had an EEG on Saturday to check for seizures. Silent seizures can be hard to detect, but he’s had some symptoms (periods of staring off into space where he can’t be interrupted, loss of skills) so Dr. Awesome thought we should get the test run just to be safe. In case you’re unfamiliar with them, an EEG on a toddler requires them to go a long time without sleep, then have electrodes glued to their head and a series of tests done. Menininho, not quite 18 months, was only allowed to sleep from 11 pm to 4 am Friday night. The EEG wasn’t scheduled till 1:30.

He was a trooper. He did start to cry on the way there, because I had to shake keys, sing, and poke him to stay awake, but he was a star. I was really proud of him! That said, I’m never making him do this again unless there is total proof he’s having seizures. Allow me to tell you what happened.

I realized that traffic was so bad that we’d be late, so I called the doctor’s office to let them know. I started to leave a message when I got called back, and the woman who answered the phone told me it was fine that we’d be about 15 minutes late. However, when we arrived at the office, we were greeted with: “You’re lucky I answered the phone! I never answer the phone, I just give people 20 minutes and then I leave. I would have left you.” When I replied that we were only 10 minutes late, she responded “still would have left you.”

Um, given the nature of preparation for this test, shouldn’t she be giving people benefit of the doubt? Maybe answer the phone if it rings? Wait 30 minutes in case they got the time wrong, got lost, or stuck in traffic?

We were given little information about the EEG itself. The tech told us she would be administering it, that electrodes would be glued to M’s head, if he took them off she’d end the test and send us home, that there would be a strobe light, and he’d have to sleep for 10 minutes. That was it. Apparently we were supposed to keep him awake while she measured and placed the electrodes and she was upset that we didn’t. Sorry we can’t read minds.

Her cell phone kept going off. Yes, she had her personal cell phone on vibrate in her pocket. It was very loud.

The tech suggested she tape the already glued electrodes to Menininho’s head so that he didn’t tear them off. We were so worried about her stopping the test if one fell off that we agreed, even though she told us it would be more painful for him. Too bad she didn’t also tell us that she was going to wrap his head in gauze like a mummy too. The tape was overkill and I believe she knew that.

During the sleeping portion of the test, her cell phone went off AGAIN.

Then, she started asking random questions: Am I pregnant? Were we tired? Why were we here?

I kind of expected that if she didn’t know why were having the test run, that should have been one of the FIRST things to find out. But, I explained that one of the specialists was worried about seizures and why. Mark added that it potentially made sense, given that seizure disorders tend to be comorbid with autism, and Menininho is suspected of having autism. She asked rather rudely why we thought he has autism. So, I responded rudely back (because really, I’m tired of us being second guessed): “Because he has the symptoms!” And here’s the gem:

“So what’s he do? Sit around and flap his hands?” And then she flapped her hands to mimic a child who stims.

That’s completely inappropriate. On SO many levels. I was speechless.

When I got my voice back and started to list symptoms, she cut me off and told me now wasn’t the time to tell her because she wasn’t able to record it. So what is it? She’s making small talk or she’s taking a history…can’t be both. Only one of those requires me to answer anything.

Then, the tech told Mark to keep the baby awake. Menininho flipped out, as I’m sure anyone can understand. Upon being awakened, he screamed, threw his body around, began to grab at the gauze wrap around his head. The tech just watched us try to soothe and restrain him for about 3 minutes before remarking “Oh, you didn’t have to KEEP him awake. I just wanted to see if he seized upon waking up. He can go back to sleep now.” I was livid. Of course there was no calming him down at this point. We had to just try to keep him still while she watched. And, just as it was time to undo the dressing and take off the electrodes, her phone rang again. AND SHE TOOK THE CALL! Yes, with my son screaming in the background, waiting to be unhooked, she took a couple minutes to talk with her son.

THEN, she had the gall to chide Mark and my baby for pulling off the electrodes themselves. She said doing that would hurt Menininho. We had to go to another room for her to wash them off, while telling me she was in a hurry to get home, and that maybe the doctor would look over the results and get back to us this week…whenever he “had time.”

Why, yes. I will be sending a written complaint to the office.