Lee and I have been going to a lot of what we call “high five” appointments with my medical team, where we meet with various Dr’s, pat each other on the back for kicking cancer’s ass, say we’ll see each other in 3 months, and leave skipping.
I was not expecting “do you want another baby?” when we met with my Oncologist last week. This is the woman who told me six months ago, “Don’t think about it – just put it out of your head for a while.” I had happily followed her orders – I had enough to worry about, another child was quickly falling to the bottom of the list. I stared blankly at the doctor, as Lee nodded his head vehemently.
A year ago, all I wanted was another baby. When I was told we didn’t have time to harvest eggs before starting chemo, I didn’t think things could get any worse. I sobbed… and then I followed the doctor’s orders and put it out of my mind.
Now she had changed her tune, and I found myself sputtering for a response. I landed on, “it’s a moot point isn’t it – I still don’t get my period” (along with not having to shave your legs, this is another benefit of chemo – your period goes on a potentially permanent vacation).The Dr. explained that this was likely not permanent, however if they decided to put me on Tamoxifen (a drug prescribed to breast cancer survivors) it would be. It’s a lovely drug that will put you into early menapause, prescribed to women whose cancer is affected by estrogen and hormones. Fortunately for me, mine is not, so I got the choice. Not one for making huge life decisions right now, I chose to forego Tamoxifen.
Two weeks later, Aunt Ruby returned to our house. What had seemed implausible was now a choice for us. I checked in with my Doctors and confirmed that now that everything was in working order, my chances were as good as any other 37 year old at getting pregnant. My reconstructive surgery is scheduled for October 9th, however it was suggested that if I did want to get pregnant, I might want to consider putting surgery off, and concentrate on a pregnancy. I’m not sure I’m ready for it, nor do I want to add to what I’m still recovering from.
Yet there’s another part of me that thinks, wow! What a ‘fuck you’ to cancer, huh? Less than a year after getting diagnosed, I’m healthy and able to have a baby. The thought of physically being able to bring a child into the world, after what my body has been through, warms the cockles of my heart.
Today, I’m just starting to see the light after the darkest period of my life… If I’m really honest, I can’t imagine signing myself up for another hostile takeover of my body… I haven’t even finished the process! Until my reconstruction, I have mis-shapen, nipple-less franken-boobs. What does this have to do with having a baby? Nothing… but let’s just say it doesn’t feel normal, and I’m trying to get back there desperately. And pregnancy is far from normal so that wouldn’t help matters.
So beautifully written. Spoken from the heart. I think that you should consider writing, you express yourself so well. It makes me smile, brings tears to my eyes and every emotion in between.
Thanks Lana – your support means a lot, and motivates me to keep writing. It’s my biggest challenge right now!
Trish, you are such an inspiration! Your writing is so heartfelt, and is put together in such a way that people automatically relate to you and your words.
Keep up the good fight, and thanks for being an awesome person and an awesome wife and mother! 🙂
I randomly came across this blog/site googling something I can’t even recall. I saw a familiar smile in a small picture and realized who it was. I am floored by hearing your story. I’m beyond happy that things have taken and a turn for the better. Take care and stay strong, never stop fighting the fight,
T.