The Wrench

Originally, this post was going to be about migraines. Relpax, my migraine rescue med, is not considered safe during pregnancy. This was the "wrench" I referred to in my last post.

I would soon face another road block.

As usual, we met with Dr. Graber after my last MRI. After exchanging the usual niceties, he asked how I'd been feeling. My throat dropped into my stomach as I answered him, because I knew what that question meant. I had felt like something was wrong.

Dr. Graber explained that my MRI had shown a small change in my tumor, so I had to start treatment soon. He had told me previously that pregnancy is not safe for a year after radiation. My chemo drug could also cause infertility. 

"Well, I guess that makes the decision for us," I said through tears. "We're not going to have kids."

"That's not true," Dr. Graber said. "People have babies all kinds of ways these days." He referred me to UW's fertility team.

While waiting to speak with a fertility doctor, Matt and I looked into some options. My mom reminded me that my cousin had frozen her eggs, but we knew that it was a prohibitively expensive procedure, one that insurance companies don't usually cover. As a side note, I realized that fertility treatment is unequal in this country. You can do it if you are wealthy, but if you are poor, you usually can't. Health insurance coverage for fertility services is now mandated in some states, but ours isn't one of them (yet).

A few weeks later, the fertility doctor said that the chemotherapy drug I would be taking was likely to damage my ovaries. Luckily, because of my diagnosis, I qualified for a cheaper fertility package offered through Livestrong. It was $6,500 to retrieve my eggs instead of the usual $18,000-$20,000. This didn't include the expensive medications I would need, but there were a couple of other c-word related programs that would probably cover them.

Needless to say, I felt a huge sense of relief. We had options that I didn't know we had. So we made the decision to retrieve my eggs before my c-word treatment so that I could have children later on.

The next couple of weeks felt very rushed, infused with the pressure of time. The process was more complicated than I'd anticipated. I got an email with a long list of things I needed to do, including genetic testing, applications for financial assistance, consent forms, a pre-anesthesia appointment, an ultrasound, education modules, genetic testing of embryos, instructions for obtaining medications, and more. It all needed to happen before I started treatment, and we were hosting Christmas Eve dinner this year.

I had nearly constant doctor's calls, so it turned out to be a good thing that I didn't take my last job offer (not to mention the fact that I am starting treatment soon.) I had time to do the education modules, take calls, and even cook for Christmas Eve dinner. 

I was overwhelmed. I had moments of resistance. I wanted to keep things simple, so I thought that maybe I would throw it all out the window. But I recently had a session with my therapist, and she reminded me to view this experience as something I want instead of have to do. Sure, I could skip all of this complicated shit and just hope that my ovaries would still be intact after treatment. Freezing my eggs is not natural. But Matt and I really want this, and I won't have to worry as much about whether or not I'll have children when it's over.

My sister Alli and I had a conversation today. I asked her if she thought it was selfish of me to have kids. She said that it was the opposite and a "leap of faith." Sometimes there are spiritual reasons for things, so I said that this may have happened because my body wanted something to grow inside of it. I could just be trying to make sense of what is happening, but she agreed that it was totally possible. She reminded me that I have "the best guy in the world to take care of and raise a child" if I die... that he would rather "keep a piece of me with him than not." And she's right. She also said that she would help him, and make sure the child had every possible opportunity. The conversation made me cry, but it also made me feel better about my decision.

The next couple of months is going to be an adventure. I expect plenty of ups and downs, but I think I've learned to ride the waves better than I used to. We will start the fertility treatment after visiting my parents in Arizona at the beginning of January, which will take about two weeks. Then I'll start radiation. I'll go into that more in my next post, but for now, I will focus on the magical process of ensuring my procreative future.