My mom sent me a link tonight to a CBS News story on Adolescents and Young Adults with cancer, and how this is a growing group of cancer patients. The story focused on two cancer patients who are in remission or cured, but who have issued stemming from their chemotherapy. Reading the article, I was reminded of what I went through, but it was when I watched the video that a wave a nausea and/or anger came over me.
When I was told I had cancer, before I had any biopsies done, or any diagnostic tests to try and pinpoint the cancer, I made it known that my biggest fear was that it was in my female parts and that I would have to have a hysterectomy. When I found out that it wasn't gynecological, my mind went to fighting whatever it was. At the time, before beginning any treatment, no one ever asked me about saving my eggs for the future. I was 22 years old, and I had every intention of beating cancer. I was also in a long-term, monogamous relationship.
I have blogged before about wanting kids and not knowing if that will ever happen for me. It seems irresponsible for my doctors, any of them, all of them, to not have this conversation with me. I know my prognosis was not good, and it only got worse once I started treatment; but here I am. I am 31 years old, married to a wonderful man, and I don't know if I will ever be able to have children of my own. And that sucks.
I was diagnosed with terminal cancer in 2003, at the age of 22. This is my story about the fight for my life, and the support and inspiration that helped me succeed. I have been in remission since 2004, and although I may never be considered cured, in the clinical sense of the word, I will never take life, or family, for granted.
Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
They Say Children Are Our Future, But Are They In Mine?
So many friends of mine are pregnant, including my sister-in-law, and while I am very happy for them, I can’t help but feel devasted at the same time.
Let me clarify, I don’t know if I can have children. A couple years ago, my husband and I decided we were going to start trying. I bought a book where I could keep track of my periods and all of that, but then my periods stopped showing up.
I made an appointment with a new OBGyn in Athens. The original OBGyn I had been seeing did not accept Medicare anymore, and so I had been getting my annual exams done by my PCP. I scheduled the appointment with the new OBGyn to discuss fertility issues related to my cancer treatment; however, I believe this doctor looked at me and saw a 250 pound woman, NOT a cancer survivor (more about my weight in a later post), because instead of talking about fertility tests, he mentioned that a lot of overweight women find it easier to concieve AFTER losing weight. Well, that makes sense.
Although, in my case, I would like to know if I can or cannot have children. What good is losing weight going to do for my yearning to be a parent IF chemo completely wrecked my reproductive system? This doctor is still my doctor, for now. Mostly because I was laid off from my job as a travel agent in May 2009. My husband and I decided that with steady money not coming in (he is self-employed), trying to get pregnant at that time was not exactly smart.
The truly sad part of the whole story is a lack of support from my family. When I was sick, everyone said it was unfair to a child to bring them into a world where I might not exist. Then once I got better, it was unfair to a child to have a father so much older than them. (Marshall is 54 years old, 25 years older than me, more on that later, too). I still don’t understand why I should be punished or penalized for falling in love with someone older, or the fact that I got sick?
My younger brother (whose wife is currently expecting) has a little girl who is almost 4 years old. She is such a joy. When he found out that Marshall and I wanted to start a family of our own, he called me to discuss all the things about parenthood that you don’t learn until you are in the throes of parenthood. And he basically called me selfish, that I was too self-centered to be a parent.
Again, I don’t understand how people who have children and know what a blessing they are would ever want to deny others from feeling that way. Obviously, I know that being a parent is not a walk in the park, but as in everything in life, you have to work at it to be happy and successful.
Marshall and I have a pretty good life now. His business takes up a lot of his time and we can’t just up and leave for a week anymore, but with a little planning, there is not a lot stopping us from doiong what we want. I do really enjoy that. But I know more than anything, I want to be a parent someday. I also know that if it never happens, Marshall and I have a strong enough relationship to make it through. What I worry about is what happens after Marshall is gone. We could have 30 more years together, but I always hear that the children are what help widows and widowers move on. Who will I have down the road?
We have talked about adoption, in passing. I had planned to have an indepth conversation about adoption on a recent trip, but we were having such a good time. But I do believe that is an option.
Let me clarify, I don’t know if I can have children. A couple years ago, my husband and I decided we were going to start trying. I bought a book where I could keep track of my periods and all of that, but then my periods stopped showing up.
I made an appointment with a new OBGyn in Athens. The original OBGyn I had been seeing did not accept Medicare anymore, and so I had been getting my annual exams done by my PCP. I scheduled the appointment with the new OBGyn to discuss fertility issues related to my cancer treatment; however, I believe this doctor looked at me and saw a 250 pound woman, NOT a cancer survivor (more about my weight in a later post), because instead of talking about fertility tests, he mentioned that a lot of overweight women find it easier to concieve AFTER losing weight. Well, that makes sense.
Although, in my case, I would like to know if I can or cannot have children. What good is losing weight going to do for my yearning to be a parent IF chemo completely wrecked my reproductive system? This doctor is still my doctor, for now. Mostly because I was laid off from my job as a travel agent in May 2009. My husband and I decided that with steady money not coming in (he is self-employed), trying to get pregnant at that time was not exactly smart.
The truly sad part of the whole story is a lack of support from my family. When I was sick, everyone said it was unfair to a child to bring them into a world where I might not exist. Then once I got better, it was unfair to a child to have a father so much older than them. (Marshall is 54 years old, 25 years older than me, more on that later, too). I still don’t understand why I should be punished or penalized for falling in love with someone older, or the fact that I got sick?
My younger brother (whose wife is currently expecting) has a little girl who is almost 4 years old. She is such a joy. When he found out that Marshall and I wanted to start a family of our own, he called me to discuss all the things about parenthood that you don’t learn until you are in the throes of parenthood. And he basically called me selfish, that I was too self-centered to be a parent.
Again, I don’t understand how people who have children and know what a blessing they are would ever want to deny others from feeling that way. Obviously, I know that being a parent is not a walk in the park, but as in everything in life, you have to work at it to be happy and successful.
Marshall and I have a pretty good life now. His business takes up a lot of his time and we can’t just up and leave for a week anymore, but with a little planning, there is not a lot stopping us from doiong what we want. I do really enjoy that. But I know more than anything, I want to be a parent someday. I also know that if it never happens, Marshall and I have a strong enough relationship to make it through. What I worry about is what happens after Marshall is gone. We could have 30 more years together, but I always hear that the children are what help widows and widowers move on. Who will I have down the road?
We have talked about adoption, in passing. I had planned to have an indepth conversation about adoption on a recent trip, but we were having such a good time. But I do believe that is an option.
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