Chapter 7: Therapy
Several weeks later, following their babysitting stint during Rachel and Ross's honeymoon, Chandler expertly piloted his and Monica's minivan into a therapy clinic in town, not far from their house.
"It was nice of Phoebe and Mike to watch the kids," he told his wife, as they both climbed gingerly out of the car. Studying her closely, he was oddly comforted to recognize in his wife's body language and mannerisms how she was as nervous as he felt – not about leaving Jack and Erica in Phoebe's care, but about coming….
"Yeah. And for her to lend us her dream journal. Well – one page of it anyway." Phoebe had ripped out the page on which she had written down Monica's nightmare upon arrival at her friends' house.
Circling the car, Chandler took Monica's hand. "Hey…." He murmured, grazing a thumb along her cheek. "You OK?"
She nodded, lips pursed, glancing down at her feet. It was only for a moment, though, before she caught his eyes and held them. "We're just going to give this a try," she informed him. "One consultation."
"Exactly. And if we aren't feeling or don't find ourselves comfortable with the therapist, we can always stop, or…." Chandler fumbled to finish his thought. He wasn't sure what they would do if this didn't work out: go to a pharmacy? Did pharmacies even have medication that treated night terrors? He was inclined to doubt it, but then again, he wasn't in the medical profession.
Far more terrifying than the thought of what would happen if therapy didn't work, but what would happen if therapy did. If this session went well. Monica was about the only person who Chandler could be open with about his feelings, and achieving that intimacy had only been achieved after several trial and errors in miscommunication, even after they had fallen in love. Unlike Ross and Rachel, however, those miscommunications hadn't triggered a breakdown in their relationship; they had worked through it.
Maybe he and Monica could work through this too.
Chandler clasped Monica's hand and squeezed it. "Come on. We can't eat into our hour standing here in the parking lot like chickens."
Husband and wife entered the clinic. Monica registered them both at the front desk while Chandler tried to calm his nerves by glancing at the frames on the wall. The walls were painted in warm, bright, inviting colors. It made him wonder if children were also patients here – maybe, for some deep-seated trauma. He suddenly felt a little nauseous, and wrestled with himself to tamp it down.
He and Monica took seats against the wall, waiting in a silence that was only broken by Chandler bouncing his leg. He had displayed much the same nervous tic while waiting to pee into that stupid little cup at the fertility clinic. He was grateful that Monica didn't call him on it – his bride was curled into herself, studying the linoleum floor.
"Mr. and Mrs. Bing?"
Chandler and Monica lifted their heads at the call of their name, and followed a young, pretty assistant back into the rear offices.
"Mrs. Davis will be with you shortly; in the meantime, you can wait here in her office," the assistant ushered them in.
The office was spacious, nice. Chandler could tell from how Monica was admiringly observing the space that his wife thought it well put together, even by her organizational standards. As for himself, he became quickly fixated by a quote hung on the wall, in fancy, cursive script. If you don't have a problem with my problem…. which I don't, it read.
The door behind them suddenly opened, and Chandler and Monica both jerked, startled.
A pretty lady with a round, kind face and brown hair grinned at them. "Chandler and Monica? Hi….. My name is Nicole! Welcome!" She shook their hands in turn. There was a slight accent in her voice, barely detectable, that suggested to Chandler that she might be from somewhere down South.
Nicole sat behind her desk; Chandler and Monica eased into soft, plush chairs directly opposite her.
"So, in refreshing my memory on your case file, this is not couples' therapy?" Nicole asked.
Monica shook her head. "No. My husband and I…." She smiled and reached for Chandler's hand. "We've been very happy with each other. For a long time." Chandler beamed at her.
Nicole smiled, glancing between them. "Well, thank goodness! Cause I just gotta say, y'all are so cute!" Chandler and Monica blushed. "Which brings me to gathering some background: how long have you been together?"
"Friends for 17 years this Thanksgiving, a couple for six. Married for a little over three," Monica rattled off.
"Impressive!" Nicole jotted down. "You're telling me y'all were friends for over a decade before you did anything?" Her smile was warm and inviting.
Chandler flushed. "Well, you know how it is: feelings can change, but that doesn't mean you always act on them immediately. I think at first we were afraid of risking our friendship by easing into more." Monica leaned in and touched her lips lightly to his.
Nicole grinned. "Awww…. Well, that is all the couples' questions I will be asking for today…." She stood and rounded her desk, pausing for a moment to peruse through the Bings' case file.
Chandler pointed to the cursive quote on the wall. "Nice quote," he blabbed, trying to calm his nerves. "Who said it?"
"Partially Jonathan Larson."
"Who?" Chandler blinked.
Nicole flushed. "Well, the stuff after the ellipses was added by my daughter. She's a graphic design artist and she thought it made more sense." She flipped the case file shut. "So: I've reviewed your referral from Dr. Connally. I take it….. you want to talk about your….. fertility struggles?" She seemed intrigued. "That would certainly be a first, at least for me…."
Chandler felt himself starting to perspire a little. Her first time discussing fertility issues in therapy? No pressure…. No pressure at all…..
He was only too happy to let Monica take the lead, and she squeezed his hand like a lifeline, likely both to anchor him as well as herself. "Yes. Um….. it all started just after our niece, Emma, was born….."
"And is the child's mother or father your sibling?" Nicole interrupted. "Excuse me; just trying to get a complete picture."
"Her father is my brother," Monica explained.
"And your niece was born when?"
"April 4th, 2002," Monica smiled at the memory of being in the hospital with Rachel, Chandler and their friends. "Chandler and I…. well, we were coming up on our first anniversary then."
"That was…. really the day we began seriously discussing having kids of our own," Chandler piped up, haltingly. "Although, I had…. I'd always known that it was Monica's dream to have a baby…"
"Forgive me if this is too prying, Chandler, but would you say having children was more Monica's dream than yours?" Nicole inquired.
Chandler gulped. "For a time, yes. Everyone in our friend group knew it. I…." He scuffed at the carpet with his shoe. "I struggled with commitment issues for a while, from which my brilliant wife helped cure me." He grinned at Monica lovingly. "So that's one less thing on your plate!" he told Nicole, laughing with slight discomfort. Monica smiled indulgently. Humor had always been a defense mechanism for her husband, especially when he was nervous. He huffed out a breath. "Dr. Davis, I grew up in a broken home. My parents divorced when I was 9 years old, and that really affected me. I felt I didn't have the confidence to be a parent, if I came from two people who obviously weren't prepared to deal with how their choices affected their child, let alone their ability to be parents themselves."
Nicole was jotting down feverishly, even as she smiled knowingly. "While that may sound like great insight, Chandler, you were missing at that time one key fact: while you may come from your parents, that doesn't mean you are them completely. Which means you can't expect to make the same poor decisions that your parents did."
Chandler nodded. "I've begun to understand that now." He felt Monica squeeze his hand.
Dr. Davis smiled at him kindly. "You clearly were starting to understand it a few years ago, if you were willing to try for a baby."
"Well…. Chandler flushed. "I wanted to make Monica happy."
"OK, so you tried to get pregnant for how long?"
Monica shifted. "A year," she murmured quietly. "Nothing happened."
"Hence a visit with Dr. Connally," Nicole nodded. "May I ask what the result of that consultation was?"
Chandler blinked back tears at the memory. "We were told we were both pretty much infertile." He let out a shaky breath. "Monica's uterus was deemed an inhospitable environment, while my sperm lacked low motility. Essentially, few of my swimmers would get anywhere near an egg to fertilize, and Monica's womb was prepared to kill the ones that did get close." He swallowed. "Connally said we could keep trying…. But there was a chance that natural conception might never happen for us. I'm quoting him there, by the way."
Nicole nodded, finishing her notes. "I see. That must have been devastating."
Monica nodded, eyes welling up just at the memory. "We cried. But we eventually looked into other means. We considered surrogacy, but dismissed it, before settling on adoption." She smiled wetly. "We adopted our twins back in May, from Ohio…. They're perfect…."
Chandler jumped in. "The reason we're here, Doctor, is that…. my wife and I…. lately, we've been having these dreams – nightmares, really…."
"What sort of nightmares?" Nicole sat on the edge of her desk, intrigued.
Chandler swallowed. "They're…. fairly recurring, for each of us. Mine tends to show an image of Mon…." He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, staving off tears. "…. Dying in childbirth. Or, what I've interpreted as her dying in childbirth."
Nicole nodded gravely, which took Chandler by surprise: he'd been expecting a different reaction, like laughter. In any case, he had never thought that therapists would be the type to allow something like dreams to be taken so seriously in their practice.
"Monica?"
Monica leaned into Chandler. "My nightmare tends to involve me talking about dying. How I'm not afraid to die. I'm always talking to Chandler in this….. dream, professing my love for him, almost like I'm trying to leave nothing unsaid before…. before something happens…."
Nicole recorded this quietly. "Fascinating. Besides each other, for I'm presuming you have discussed these dreams amongst yourselves, have you told anyone else about these dreams?"
"Just one person. A close family friend. Phoebe Buffay. She…. she keeps a dream journal herself and tends to look for deeper meaning in them."
Nicole smiled. "Your friend sounds like a very inquisitive person. Even serious."
"Inquisitive? Yes. Serious? I've never thought that when it comes to Pheebs!" Chandler chuckled awkwardly, wilting only under his wife's pointed look.
Nicole grinned. "You might be interested to know, Chandler, that we do acknowledge the power of dreams in our profession. I'm a licensed psychotherapist, which, among other things, means I am credentialed in what is sometimes called dream analysis. People alternatively refer to it as dream interpretation. This is a field of study that goes all the way back to biblical times, and surprising as it might seem, we carry it forward in this profession today." She smirked. "Call it Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat without any of the music."
Chandler and Monica both chuckled. "Sounds like it would be boring!" Chandler threw out.
"Not necessarily. Everyone's dreams are different and unique – you don't need Andrew Lloyd Webber to bring any of that out. We can get into how I interpret your dreams in a moment, but first I want an unvarnished opinion from each of you. What do you think your dreams mean?"
Monica bit her lip. "I guess….. in discussing them with each other, we've come to believe that…. they might be linked."
"Interesting insight. Why would you say that?"
"While it's coming from different angles, we're both afraid of losing each other," Monica admitted. "To death, specifically." She curled her arm through Chandler's. "We've worked hard and come far to make our relationship work, though I would say our road to marriage was actually smoother than most because we were willing to talk through things. We've seen the opposite – it's no fun, for anyone involved!"
Nicole turned her head. "Chandler?"
"I would agree with that," Chandler nodded. "But I would also say that maybe these…. nightmares….. are telling us that we never fully grieved our inability to conceive. When we first heard the news from Dr. Connally, there were tears, of course, but then we poured all our energy into realizing our dream some other way. Through some other means. We're blessed with two beautiful babies now…. but I can't help but wonder if we ever fully grieved how we…. couldn't get pregnant."
"I'm interested in how you said 'fully'….." Nicole mused.
"Oh, that's intentional, Doctor. I've never believed in linking words like proper and natural to grieving. There's no one right or wrong way to mourn."
"Well said," Nicole smiled. "Maybe I'll borrow that as a quote and hang it up on my wall!" The three shared a chuckle at that. There was a pause. "Can I weigh in?"
"Please," Monica encouraged Nicole.
"First of all, let me give you my honest opinion when I say: your theories are both right. But in regards to the grieving…. has it ever occurred to you that perhaps the reason you have not, to borrow your phrase, Chandler, 'fully grieved' your inability to conceive is because you are holding out hope that you one day still might?"
Monica wrinkled her nose. "I'm afraid I don't understand….. Dr. Connally said we were infertile."
"Actually, what Dr. Connally said, and here I quote him: 'Mr. and Mrs. Bing may keep trying to conceive, however there is a good chance it may never happen.' Right now, I'm focusing on the phrases 'good chance' and 'may never.' Just because there is, given your medical history, a good chance natural conception may never happen for you does not necessarily mean there is no chance it won't ever happen." Nicole smiled knowingly at how Chandler and Monica's eyes both expanded. "A slim chance is still a chance, Chandler and Monica."
Chandler chuckled weakly. "Now that definitely sounds like a quote. Who said that, I wonder?"
Nicole smirked. "Chicken Run. It's all my daughter wants to play in the VCR." Another round of laughter. Nicole glanced at her watch. "My goodness! Time flies when you're having fun!" Chandler and Monica both stood, shaking her hand gratefully. "I would you love to see you both again, if you feel it necessary. No pressure, of course!"
"Thank you," Monica expressed.
"Now, I'm not a fertility specialist like Dr. Connally, but word of advice? : If you do go back and revisit trying to get pregnant, just relax about it. My husband and I found out we were pregnant with our daughter about nine months after we decided to stop actively trying and instead just have fun! That's what sexual intercourse should be about, first and foremost: having fun! We tend to place more emphasis on the procreation function of it, particularly in this country." After asking them both if they wanted a hug, Nicole gave one each to Monica and Chandler. "Also, if you keep having these dreams, I would actively encourage that you each keep a dream diary, like your friend. Feel free to share your findings with each other. Talk about them."
Chandler and Monica both headed out to their car in a daze. Slamming the doors of the minivan, they both sat quietly in the front seat, staring out at the parking lot.
Then, Monica glanced to her husband and turned the key in the ignition, her eyes dancing.
"Wanna head on home and have sex?"
Chandler growled, grinning. "So long as we do it for the right reasons: have fun first, maybe make the baby bank shot later!"
Giggling, the married couple pulled out of the clinic parking lot almost in a squeal of tires.
