Life changed the pitch
My doctor never said the words.
I don't remember it coming up in my official diagnosis.
I found out on webMD as I struggled to find information about the rare 'orphan' disease I'd been diagnosed with at the age of 18.
"ITP is too dangerous for childbirth." So, people with ITP should avoid childbirth.
I remember the pit in my stomach. Something I'd never even considered yet was being taken off the table. I'd spent my teen years learning ways to not get pregnant for different reasons now my body was like 'Ha! Never!"
Turns out my immune system thinks my platelets are a disease and attacks them, so my blood can't clot. In the long run I'm not in danger unless they drop too low (knock wood) or I have a massive trauma or surgery (like childbirth) then I'd just bleed to death while my immune system snacked on my platelets like I snack on chips.
I was 18, starting college and thinking about how the life I envisioned myself having was going to look vastly different through nothing I did. Life is funny like that.
I made due with life, established a career and wrote kids out of the picture. I got dogs. I watched my friends have kids and went to too many baby showers to count.
Then I got a different pitch.
My brother's girlfriend had a kid and then took off leaving the butterbean behind. This new Winston Churchill looking preemie became the duty of our family. It takes a village you know?
Now, I'm aunt Kate. I have him every weekend and take him to buy shoes and grocery shop and have an entire room devoted to the little dude's toys and necessities at my house. There's monthly sleepovers and lots of snuggles and kisses and teaching him letters.
I took him to his first movie, his first haircut and planned his first birthday. We have adventures and sleepovers and love to sing the "Spongebob" song on the phone.
All while my immunue system snacks on platelets like I eat hummus.
It's not the motherhood or life I thought I'd get, but I wouldn't change it. It's hard and frustrating sometimes when I send him home crying. Or when I don't get to pick his school or daycare. But then he runs across the yard to see me every Saturday morning and screams my name when he sees me for the first time.
In the years since my diagnosis life has changed, I've changed, treatment for my disease has changed. Change is the constant. You never know what life's going to throw at you.
You've got to be ready for anything.
I don't remember it coming up in my official diagnosis.
I found out on webMD as I struggled to find information about the rare 'orphan' disease I'd been diagnosed with at the age of 18.
"ITP is too dangerous for childbirth." So, people with ITP should avoid childbirth.
I remember the pit in my stomach. Something I'd never even considered yet was being taken off the table. I'd spent my teen years learning ways to not get pregnant for different reasons now my body was like 'Ha! Never!"
Turns out my immune system thinks my platelets are a disease and attacks them, so my blood can't clot. In the long run I'm not in danger unless they drop too low (knock wood) or I have a massive trauma or surgery (like childbirth) then I'd just bleed to death while my immune system snacked on my platelets like I snack on chips.
I was 18, starting college and thinking about how the life I envisioned myself having was going to look vastly different through nothing I did. Life is funny like that.
I made due with life, established a career and wrote kids out of the picture. I got dogs. I watched my friends have kids and went to too many baby showers to count.
Then I got a different pitch.
My brother's girlfriend had a kid and then took off leaving the butterbean behind. This new Winston Churchill looking preemie became the duty of our family. It takes a village you know?
Now, I'm aunt Kate. I have him every weekend and take him to buy shoes and grocery shop and have an entire room devoted to the little dude's toys and necessities at my house. There's monthly sleepovers and lots of snuggles and kisses and teaching him letters.
I took him to his first movie, his first haircut and planned his first birthday. We have adventures and sleepovers and love to sing the "Spongebob" song on the phone.
All while my immunue system snacks on platelets like I eat hummus.
It's not the motherhood or life I thought I'd get, but I wouldn't change it. It's hard and frustrating sometimes when I send him home crying. Or when I don't get to pick his school or daycare. But then he runs across the yard to see me every Saturday morning and screams my name when he sees me for the first time.
In the years since my diagnosis life has changed, I've changed, treatment for my disease has changed. Change is the constant. You never know what life's going to throw at you.
You've got to be ready for anything.