|
September 26, 2004 ~ Diagnosis Confirmed, Choices Made
Sunday.
'Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave, 'tis a wail that is heard upon the shore, 'tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave, "Oh hard times come again no more." 'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary, "Hard times, hard times, come again no more. Many days have you lingered 'round my cabin door; oh hard times come again no more." ~ Folk song.
I don't want this journal to start resembling a train wreck. Let's try this:
I'm sitting here in my underwear on the living room couch, with the old laptop on my knees. I've recently showered, and I'm sipping a vanilla almond soy smoothie that I got free from the co-op (it went out of date). Morgan is laying on the love seat next to me, in the sunlight streaming through the window, sniffling from his cold. He is clenching and unclenching his fist, to distract himself, because every five minutes I have to yell, "HEY!! Don't itch it!" (Poison ivy sucks). He's reading the last book in Stephen King's Dark Tower series. He hadn't known it was out. Last Wednesday, when I heard, I snuck away from the college right after I got off (I get off an hour before him), bought a copy, and had it sitting in the passenger seat when I picked him up. You should have seen his grin.
What I mean to say is this: Times are good even when they are bad.
Friday night, we got the call. The multiple sclerosis specialist neurologist (what a mouthful) confirmed Morgan's mother's diagnosis. She has MS. Lightning struck twice. They believe that Morgan's family is at high risk, and over the next few weeks, Morgan is going to try to get to a doctor himself, and we are taking advice from his mother about what little is known about preventative measures such as diet and exercise and such.
How does this affect our wish to have children? We have decided that it doesn't. We still want to try for children. From the beginning when we first heard, our gut reactions and our hearts have leaned in that direction. A few of you wrote in response to my concerns about multiple sclerosis and children, and I was pleased that your thoughts mirrored our own, mirrored what our hearts have been saying from the start.
We don't want to live in fear of some statistics. Even if those statistics end up working to our disadvantage, we refuse to believe that MS is a fate worse than never being born. Millions of terrible things can happen to a child, regardless of "genetic susceptibility." A debilitating accident or an act of violence. One of those other horrible things could be in the cards for our children, some much more likely than others. The world in general is a dangerous place, full of ways to hurt and scar us. Come what may, we will adapt and deal with it and keep on living. Just because one of those horrible things just became a hell of a lot more likely doesn't mean we're going to, literally, throw the baby out with the bathwater.
One friend put it like this:
"As you said in your entry, the act of having children itself is a selfish thing. But people do it every day, and many of them are dealing with much greater risks than what you're talking about. They do it because they want that chance to give all the love that they have to someone else--someone they made--regardless of what might or might not happen."
We want, so badly, to have that experience, to give that love. And we've weighed the possible consequences, and we feel that, come what may, we want to know our children.
When I was preparing to post that entry, Morgan said, "Well. Brace yourself. You may get some really nasty comments." We have both, in the past, encountered those who believe that it is irresponsible and selfish to create a child when the genetic odds don't look promising. We have encountered those who feel that further "polluting the human gene pool" is despicable. In fact, from what I've read online and the limited experiences I've had in person regarding situations like ours, popular opinion seems to lean toward, "You should seriously consider not have children." Well, fair enough. We've seriously considered it. But we've found it to be in disagreement with what our hearts tell us is right. We won't live our lives in fear of what could go wrong. We will live in hope of what could go right.
Besides, I know a woman, recently diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. In a Friday night phone conversation with her son, she made her thoughts on the matter perfectly clear:
She sure would like to be a grandmother.
|
|
