If there is such a thing as a biological clock, then mine is defunct.
Because if it were working, surely it would have alerted me, say, five years ago to start thinking about having a family.
Instead, it waits until a most inopportune moment to finally chirp up.
Oh, you have MS now? You are on three Category C drugs? Perfect! Let’s get cracking on this baby thing.
While I tend to subscribe to the “better late than never” adage, it’s never so easy in practice.
I’ve gotten conflicting advice on whether to stay on my treatment. Two doctors have indicated that it would probably be OK to, but to stop the minute I find out I’m pregnant.
The drug nurse said that wasn’t such a hot idea — not enough studies have been done in humans (or animals, for that matter) to ensure that it will be safe going.
An MS friend was off of the same treatment four months before trying to conceive, and we have the same neurologist. She is now a mom.
The biggest risks on the treatment are miscarriages and preemies. The biggest risk off? MS rears its ugly head again. And every lesion, every exacerbation has the potential to cause permanent damage.
It’s a gamble. I knew that going in. With that in mind, I saw these as my options:
I stop treatment, open myself up to this disease and we go for it.
I stay on treatment, and live every month with the persistent worry that things will fall apart (I also subscribe to the idea of Murphy’s Law).
Neither one feels right.
I suppose there is a third option, and that is take the whole baby thing off the agenda entirely.
But that feels most wrong of all.