THE FINAL BABY

Pregnancy is the magic pill for Multiple Sclerosis, they say. Your hormones will protect you for 6-8 weeks after delivery, they say.

In a perfect world, sure.

taking my newborn baby to a steroid infusion

But then something unexpected happens.

Instead of pregnancy la-dee-da, they say you are ‘unusual’ and should really consider your health before having more children. Women don’t relapse WHILE PREGNANT, they say. You have two healthy boys and they need a healthy mom, they say.

But. But. But…. (Cue the tears and devastation.)

I want babies. I want a big family full of chaos and comradery. I want my Mia Gene and Mark Julius, maybe even a Mackenzie. I picked out my names and now I can’t use them? That’s not the way this works.

GOOD, LOVING MOMS DESERVE BABIES, AND SQUISHY BABIES DESERVE GOOD MOMMIES.

THAT’S the way this is supposed to work.

feeding my baby while getting a steroid infusion

It’s hard enough for women to come to terms with their baby makers being all dried up (Trust me, I know all about bitchy women when you tell them they are old enough to be in menopause.) so you can imagine how earth shattering it was for a 20 something to hear no-more-babies.

I was in shock. I didn’t know how to process the news outside of crying. I cried. A lot. I holed myself in my room with Maverick and no one, not even his dad, was allowed to hold him. I wanted every curious glance, every snuggle, every finger grab to myself… from… my final baby.

WORDS TYPED 10 YEARS TOO SOON.

And then I saw the MRI. I saw the lesion in my brain. I saw the lesions down my spine. I saw the really big jerk face lesion wrecking havoc on my mobility and the strength in my lower body.

SO. MANY. LESIONS.

So, in an attempt to reduce the inflammation, I started another round of steroids. This time the steroids would last five days. Five days of metallic yuck in my mouth. This time they had better provide some sort of relief.

My neuro didn’t want to put me back on Tysabri because my risk for PML was 8.5/1000 before getting pregnant, but we have to. (That’s 8.5 vs something like 1/1000.) We have to go back to Tysabri because it’s aggressive, fast (45 days to begin working) and exactly what I need to get on top of this relapse. But, for no longer than a year.

Why? Because I will switch to a different, newer drug once I have stabilized.

Unless, of course, insurance stops me. Tysabri is a front line treatment these days. Woot! We’ve come a long way since the original PML scare, but insurance is now requiring a reach around before ‘approving’ the drug. Really? Fucking insurance. And I won’t know for at least 2 weeks. Fucking insurance

So, now you know what I didn’t know how to share last week. Now you know why your future pregnancy announcement may trigger the sleeping beast I thought I had under control.

And don’t you dare check your compassion at the door and tell me to be happy with my boys because they are my world. My family is my world. Just let me grieve free of trolls, mmmkay?

Note: More updates and grainy cell pictures to come in a few weeks. I have an emotionally and physically exhausting week ahead of me.

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