Something that has been somewhat painful for me to accept is the fact that I will never be a mother.  The silly thing about that is that I never really wanted children;  that is, until I no longer had the choice.

I was 33, back at work, and living life in my new normal, when my maternal instinct hit me like a bolt of lightning.  I made up my mind that after my next “head shot” came back good, I would try to have a child.  It was around this time that I was sitting with a coworker who was about 8 months pregnant.  She was talking about how much pressure she felt in her abdomen.  A light bulb went off in my head.  Uh oh, maybe that wouldn’t be so good for my “brain drain.”  You see, my shunt drains into my abdominal cavity, and I definitely need it to function if I want the rest of me to function.

Next step, I saw a high risk maternal-fetal medicine specialist.  She informed me that I was definitely high risk, and would need special monitoring.  Furthermore, she requested that I talk with my oncologist and my neurosurgeon about the risks.  My oncologist assured me that there was no contraindication to pregnancy as far as she was concerned.  I spoke with my neurosurgeon’s assistant, who at first stated that I would need to be monitored closely, but that it was possible.  Great.  I’m cleared.  Or so I thought.

My neurosurgeon, realizing that I was serious about going forward with planning a pregnancy, called my cell phone.  I’ll never forget his words:  He said he hadn’t dealt with this before because most people in my position didn’t live long enough to plan a family.  He also said he thought I’d been through so much and that since I was doing so well, I shouldn’t “shake the boat.”  He was very kind.  He said it was very difficult for him to say this to a woman.  I believe him.   I got off the phone, cried for a while, apologized to my husband for being broken, and then I shook it off and went on as someone who will not be a mother.  I struggled with the choice for a few more years, thinking about how wonderful it would be to witness another miracle, and ultimately deciding I didn’t have it in me to take that chance.

Maybe it’s a good thing.  I figure perhaps I didn’t want it that badly, since I was able to give it up that easily.  People like to tell you to adopt.  Maybe, but it’s not a simple fix or a good alternative for everyone.  Sometimes I’m glad I’m not having children.  As much as I love them, I don’t think this world is such a great place to bring an innocent soul into.  Or maybe I’m just compensating and protecting my delicate ego.  Whatever it is, I finally feel I can share these thoughts without breaking down.