Chapter 6 - My real medical record
Ryan’s lawyer subpoenaed limited prenatal and mental-health information.
Joanna fought scope.
The judge allowed records reasonably related to claimed parenting incapacity and safety, not every private therapy note from my life.
My OB records showed:
Healthy pregnancy.
Mild anemia.
One episode of elevated blood pressure during stress, then normal.
No gestational diabetes.
No placenta problem.
No substance use.
No missed major appointments.
No refusal of medical care.
Then mental health.
At twenty-nine weeks, after the parking-lot panic attack, Dr. Lena Morris referred me to perinatal therapist Angela Ruiz.
Diagnosis:
Adjustment disorder with anxiety.
Not psychosis.
Not bipolar disorder.
Not major depressive disorder at that time.
No suicidal intent.
No homicidal intent.
No thoughts of harming baby.
Sleep difficulty.
Relationship stress.
Angela’s intake note included:
Patient reports spouse minimizes emotional distress and frames anxiety as evidence she will be unfit mother.
That sentence would later matter.
Then one session where I said:
“I want to disappear.”
Angela asked directly:
“Do you mean die?”
“No.”
“Harm yourself?”
“No.”
“Leave permanently?”
“No. I mean I want nobody to need anything from me for twenty-four hours.”
Documented.
Context.
Then my flaw.
I missed one therapy appointment.
Why?
Work.
I also stopped taking a prescribed low-dose sleep aid after one dose because it made me groggy.
I did not ask Ryan before stopping.
I did tell my doctor.
Alternative plan:
Sleep hygiene.
Occasional approved antihistamine? Let's avoid drug specifics.
Then Claire had seen me sobbing.
True.
I had raised my voice at Ryan.
True.
Once I threw a stack of baby registry papers across the kitchen.
No one hit.
No broken object.
I apologized.
Ryan photographed the papers on the floor.
Included in stability file.
Angela said in deposition:
“Does throwing papers prove Ms. Foster is incapable of caring for a newborn?”
“No.”
“Can perinatal anxiety increase postpartum mental-health risk?”
“Yes.”
“Should she be monitored after delivery?”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean her husband should automatically receive custody?”
“I do not make custody determinations.”
Good.
Then Ryan’s expert?
He hired psychiatrist Dr. Peter Lang to review records, not examine me.
Dr. Lang opined:
I had risk factors for postpartum anxiety/depression.
True.
He did not say:
Dangerous.
He wrote:
No current evidence establishes psychosis, suicidal intent, or inability to parent.
That line hurt Ryan’s narrative.
Then Joanna asked:
“Can we use this?”
“Yes.”
But she warned:
“Do not make mental illness the villain either. Even if you developed postpartum depression, that does not automatically make you unsafe.”
Important.
Then my next OB appointment.
I told Dr. Morris about the slap.
She already had hospital note.
We created delivery safety plan.
Ryan’s access would depend on protective order and hospital policy.
He could receive necessary information through counsel or approved channels.
He would not automatically be in delivery room.
My support person:
Claire.
That decision hurt.
Because I was still furious with her.
But I trusted her enough to stand beside me.
Not enough to forget.
Forgiveness was not a switch.
Then Dr. Morris asked:
“How are you sleeping?”
“Better.”
“Any thoughts of harming yourself?”
“No.”
“Harming baby?”
“No.”
“Fear?”
“Yes.”
“Of birth?”
“Of court.”
She nodded.
Then:
May you like
“We treat what is medical. Your lawyer handles what is legal.”
Exactly.
