Months To Years Fall 2018 Months To Years Fall 2018 - Page 46

feed and change her; a bathroom stall, an empty exam more information, to no avail. Apparently, few men taking room, a distant garden. It was all about doing my best the drug for malignant melanoma impregnated people. to make us disappear. I didn’t want to bother anyone. We would have to wait and see. We were a bother enough already. This was about Brad.   No one told me the family was just as important. No one explained that this was for our protection. I became a ghost in my life. When the prenatal screening came back with a high risk for Down syndrome, we were back to the perinatologist again. Despite a clean bill of health from the subsequent amniocentesis, our frayed nerves barely made it through As Taryn approached her first birthday, the time came for the process. Despite the good news, Brad shook his head me to return to work. I no longer needed to go it alone. as we left the hospital. Daycare would help. And Brad’s leg had healed from his initial surgery. Despite ongoing interferon treatments, he “Never again,” he said.  returned to work as well.   We would never get the chance to try again regardless.  and loss? Plenty of women struggled with putting their By the time our second daughter was born, we were children in daycare, but this somehow felt harder. I tried dazed, but elated. We were a united front, a family. We to remind myself that we would have more helpers and chose life, despite the spectre of cancer. Our babies were thus embrace normal again. But nothing felt normal after born. Our home was a constant DIY-home-improvement hospitals dominated Taryn’s first year. It was her and I project. Various doctor appointments littered our calendar; against the system fighting to save her father. My identity baby checkups, oncology appointments, dates for blood- was linked to protecting us. She was my reason to stay work, operations. The lists were exhaustive. strong. Through it all, Brad continued to plan and look to the So why couldn’t I shake the feelings of abandonment future. He renovated, we sold our house, we bought “Maybe if I get pregnant right away,” I thought “she won’t another… have to be in daycare long…” Before the deals closed though, fate intervened.  It was not a good reason to have a baby, but we had always planned on more. And before we could rethink “I can’t move my hand…” timing, it was too late. We were expecting, whether it added more stress to our overwhelming journey or not. “What do you mean?” I asked. “What should I do? Can I get you something? Should I call 911?” “Brad was taking interferon when I got pregnant,” I stated when they confirmed the pregnancy. I raced between him and the phone. The fridge for telephone numbers and the stove where dinner was “Could it affect the baby?”  cooking. The baby in her chair and the toddler staring wide-eyed in the background… No one knew. It placed me in a higher risk category though. And sent me off to specialists of my own. The “Just give me a minute…” I said. perinatologist suggested that I could be at higher risk for miscarriage. There weren’t any real statistics they could But our minutes were now fleeting. The cancer had spread pull from though. They knew of a handful of women with to Brad’s brain. After a week in hospital, the experts multiple sclerosis who had taken interferon and become weighed in. pregnant. My sister contacted the makers of the drug for 46