Logistics

I didn't realize all the little things that go into being pregnant. You know you have to get the baby stuff, deciding between diferent cribs and different travel systems; you know you have to answer questions about epiurals and episiotomies, breast-feeing versus bottle-feeding. What you don't think about is how, and when to tell people that you're pregnant. I can't keep a secret, so just about everyone knows at this point, but telling my boss was a huge gray area. Part of what made it difficult is that I found out that I'm pregnant one week before starting a new job. Though the hiring process from application to actual start date was almot four months, it certainly wasn't my intention to go into a new job and say "by the way, I'm pregnant!" But life just happens no matter what you do...

I'm still struggling with being in a job that I love and am excited about doing, and that shows value to their employees. It's definitely a place I've never been before, and it's great! My old job had me constantly choosing between work and life, and work usually won. I dealt with discrimination after my return from FMLA leave, and constant stress due to lack of staffing and unclear policies and procedures. Being in a place where I have all those things and then some is new. So, suffice to say I was very nervous about telling my new employer about my new and exciting situation. Not because I don't have faith in them, but because I'm still gaining faith in the workforce. I should have known better, being that I'm now working in the cancer social service industry, and I'm a cancer survivor who made an incredible milestone! This is what this organization works for, giving people with cancer hope of a normal life. I'm so grateful that I have such a job that makes my pregnancy easier instead of more complicated. I don't know how I would have done this with my old employer, it just would have been that much more difficult and stressful. I get to enjoy this era of my life, instead of worrying about it!

The Miracle of Life

We had our first ultrasound yesterday, and we have a little six-week old bean! It was amazing to see the little heart beating so powerfully. I think you can actually see the little flaps of arms and legs beginning to emerge. My mind is put a little more at ease now that I saw that beating heart. They say that once you see that your chances of miscarriage decrease tremendously. But, I'd be lying if I said that it still wasn't on my mind. I just want everything to go well. I know I"m taking a risk, putting my pregnancy out there and telling everyone about it before that twelve-week window elapses. I know I will be crushed and devistated if anything happens to little baby Steinman, but I also know that I will be helping others who have gone through, or will be going through this process one day. That was my goal of making this all so public. So, I will again have faith that everything has a purpose, even if that purpose is education.

My mom and I went and oogled at baby goodies after my ultrasound. It was so much fun looking at all the amazing stuff out there, and imagining it all being in my house. I can't wait to have the warmth of my baby's body against mine, to smell his (or her) hair, to see his eye's for the first time. I can't wait for that first smile, the first time he squeezes my finger, or sneezes in my face. I've wanted the joys of motherhood for so long, and for so long feared it would never be mine. I am just grateful for this experience, and I can't wait until he comes into this world.

I wonder if the cancer journey didn't help me a little with the conception process. Prior to my cancer I had also been diagnosed with endometriosis and hormone irregularities. I wonder if the chemo maybe didn't kill off some remaining endometrial tissue that could have prevented a pregnancy. I wonder if the Depo didn't regulate my hormones just long enough to make conception possible. I'm going to stick with my theory, which makes it possible that cancer isn't all bad. Well, I already knew that it wasn't all bad. Cancer has changed my life. I don't know if I'd say that it's changed who I am, but it has definitely changed my path. And I'm loving the path I'm on. But I still have to say: SCREW YOU CANCER! I DID IT ANYWAY, EVEN IF YOU TRIED TO TAKE IT AWAY!

Contemplation

So, I had dinner last night with a good friend in the cancer community. I started my new job this week in the city, and though exhausted, Kairol made me baked chicken with organic tomatoes and a great pasta salad with olives and artichokes...mmmm... After dinner, and over some yummy tea and pastries, we discussed my pregnancy and my blog, and just about life after and during cancer. It was a free for all, and boy can she and I talk! It's great to be able to talk to someone about the cancer stuff, and not have them look at me like I'm an alien. But our talk stirred up a whole lot of issues, concerns and excitements.

John and I are so unbelievably excited about our new addition...our little tax write-off we have so lovingly coined. We've talked about all the fun things to come, the birthdays, the holidays. We've started looking at baby gear; I even started my registry (I know, I'm lame!) But it's so great to finally have something good to look forward to. After the last year and a half of only having those dreaded scans that tell you that you have another 6 months to live cancer free, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I needed something positive to look forward to, and now we have it!

I wonder what my pregnancy will be like: will I be more susceptible to post-partum depression? Will I appreciate every ache and pain and savor the fact that I'm still alive to feel them, alive to experience them; or will I worry that it's a sign of something bad to come? Will I be a glowing Buddha belly, or a weary anxious blob? Every once in awhile I hear that damn voice, telling me that something bad could still happen: that I could still loose the pregnancy, that my cancer could come back during my pregnancy, that my baby could be born and be diagnosed with cancer at some point. Those are thoughts that frighten me, but I keep pushing them back. For right now, I'm excited about all to come! I have no reservations, but it still strikes me how interwoven my pregnancy is with my cancer experience. If it wasn't for needing to get a scan, I still may not know that I'm pregnant. If it wasn't for my angst over my scans, John and I wouldn't have made the decision to start our family when we did. It's amazing how I wouldn't be where I am without my cancer. Though it's not something warm and fuzzy that I would want to give to someone else, my cancer has taught me a lot, and has given me more opportunity than anything else ever has. It's funny how it works, but I guess it just does.

Well, I've got two more days until my ultrasound which will tell us just how much longer we have to wait for our little bean to come. Then, the next step is finding out if our home will be covered in pink or blue in the months to come. Either way, we just want a happy, healthy child.

It's Official

It's official! We had our first baby-mamma appointment yesterday, and we confirmed what the home tests had said. I guess there's always that nagging thought in the back of my head that just waits to hear something bad. I'm so used to hearing crappy news from the medical world that when something good transpires, it's difficult to believe it immediately. I can't explain the feeling I felt when, after the nurse walked away with my paper bag of precious pee, she re-entered the room and gave a simple 'congratulations.' I screeched in excitement, that finally for once I heard words of joy come from a nurse's mouth.

Now, it's trying to figure out just how far along we are. It's going to be fun...my body just can't handle being easy I guess. We decided to go off the BC in November, and my doctor had told me that it could be 6-18 months before I even started ovulating again. It's been just over five months, and no period, so nothing to base the dating of our pregnancy off of. I know that when I was in the hospital in early February for a bad viral infection (I told you I've had nothing good in the medical world) they had done pregnancy tests which were negative. My thoughts are that when I was spotting in late February, that could have been when implantation was taking place. If I'm correct in that, then I'm already 9 weeks along, and will be due in mid-November. I will be having an ultrasound next week to give us some more clues. Regardless, we will have a new baby for the holidays; how incredibly exciting!

But excitement just doesn't encompass the feeling I have right now. Elated, overjoyed, normal. Normal is a feeling I'm more happy to feel than any other. While driving home yesterday, I broke down in tears telling John just how happy I am to feel like a normal, competent woman again. Truth is, I wondered if I would be able to conceive at all. When you go through what I have as a woman, it's pretty difficult to think anything else. I had even had IUD gyno tell me that I would most likely have to take fertility drugs to even fathom conceiving semi-naturally. I told John that his swimmers must be pretty potent, because they sure did seek and destroy! Well, he can do anything he sets his mind to, so I suppose it's not too abnormal that his sperm would do the same.

Our family is beyond elated. They have been there with us through all the bad stuff, and they too expect the worst when it comes to my health. We had thrown around the idea of waiting until Mother's Day to break the news, and to do it in a fun and exciting way. However, I'm the person who can't wait to tell someone what I got them for Christmas, much less keep the news in that we're having a baby. I don't think there's been a single Christmas or birthday that I haven't given John his present way before the big day; there was no way I could handle keeping this in for six whole weeks. The memory of telling my parents is one I will never forget! My dad answered the phone, true to form was downstairs in his office and banged on the wall to get my mom to pick up. When she did, I made sure I kept them both on. "I have some news," I said. "You're pregnant," my dad said, to which I gave an affirmative reply. My mom shouted, "Jennifer...you are?!?! DJ (my brother), Jen's pregnant!" And my brother shouted back, "I'm gonna be an uncle!" We stayed on the phone, reveling in the news. I told them that we would have a baby for the holidays, and my dad, the big teddy-bear he is said, "This will bring a whole new meaning to Christmas!"

So for today, excitement is the emotion of the day. Right now, I have the energy to hold back the negative thoughts that sometimes creep in. I will count down the days through my first trimester, crossing my fingers that my baby and I stay healthy and tranverse the journey to come successfully. I don't know what I'll do if anything bad happens to our baby, or if I lose the pregnancy altogether. I don't want to be a jaded person, so I will muster the strength to keep those thoughts at bay. For now, I just want to bask in the joy of creating life and savor every cramp and pain I have right now, knowing that it's all a sign of normalcy.

A New Journey: Part 1

How should one feel about living life after cancer? Do we appreciate the fruitsof life even more, savoring every moment, tasting every new experience? Or do we cower away in angst, afraid of every bump, every bruise we get along the way? The fact of the matter is that you can figure out how to be a cancer patient: you can read books on your different treatments and what side-effects to expect; you can shave your head in preparation of losing your hair or pierce your nipple to spite losing your breast. You can listen to others tell you how to listen to your body and mind the fatigue, and you can learn to walk again after losing a leg.

What they didn't tell us is what to do when it's all done. They didn't tell us about the after effects of being a cancer patient, much less a young adult cancer patient. They didn't tell us how cope with not being able to keep up with our friends. They didn't tell us how to prepare for subsequent check-up scans that throw us right back into the cancer experience. And they certainly didn't tell us how to face the myriad of life experiences we have ahead of us with the new eyes of "cancer survivor", which as young adults we have many. And just in life's true form, those experiences speed at you just when you least expect it, even though some of us (including myself) think we have the ability to plan for and evaluate those experiences.

So, imagine my surprise when my body started speaking to me, and boy was it sending me some weird messages. Imagine while going through the preparation of getting another check-up scan, reminding me that yes I was still a cancer survivor, they ask that begging question they ask all women of child-bearing age...and then it hit me. Wow, I thought, could it be? Perhaps I should back up a little...

For as long as I can remember, all I've really truly wanted to be is a mom. Just the thought of creating a life and watching it grow...shaping him, molder her, helping my little wee one grow up to be the person they're destined to become, and watching the process all over again as they birth and raise their own children. I never thought in a million years that my ability to live the human dream of raising offspring would ever be in question. So, when the day came that I heard those three fateful words, the fact that my fertility would possibly be in question didn't immediately come to mind. But, when it did, I was crushed. I asked for time to think about what I was going to do...and I made the choice then to let nature take its course. I didn't want to go through 3-6 weeks of hormone therapy, just to have my ovaries invaded by big needle. I didn't want my husband John to have to spooge in a cup in a cold room, or our offspring floating in a petree dish for a few days before finally being turned into an ice-pop to sit around and wait for me to escape with my life. I felt that I would be no good to my frozen popsicle embryos if my vagina wasn't around for them to be inserted into.

When I started my treatment, my oncologist had informed me that the estrogen in the birth control pill I'd been on for over ten years would interfere with my chemo. I went to my then gynocologist who first suggested an IUD,which, after reading the pamphlet HE gave me, read that an IUD "shouldn't be used by immuno compromised patients"...HELLO!!!! What does chemo do? Thankfully one of his nurses suggested the DepoProvera shot. And, even though I had heard nothing but horror stories about the shot, after talking it over with my oncologist we decided it would be the best choice. I had been on the shot through my cancer treatment, and had stayed on it afterwards just for the convienence of it. Besides, not getting a period was cool (sorry guys if you can't relate.)

During the time after my treatment, I went through the anxiety and depression that I think many of us young adult survivors go through. Especially when scans would come up, I would go through this really down cancer funk. I found myself fearing every new experience, every question of what would be. I hated that I had become someone who was afraid of life. I used to be a person who loved life, who was excited about everything I had ahead of me, and here I was staying up at night constantly worrying about every little thing that could go wrong, and forgetting that there's a whole lot that could go right. So, when my November 2007 scan came, I decided that I'd had enough.

I sat down with John and asked how he felt about what life we had to come. Specifically, I asked him when he thought we'd be ready to be parents. John told me that he had been thinking about that himself lately, and wondering when that time would come. I told him that I was tired of having nothing to look forward to besides a scan that tells me wether I'd continue being a cancer survivor, or be thrown back into the world of cancer patient; I needed something more positive to look forward to. We made the decision that if the scan came back clean, that we would go off birth control and again trust nature to take its course. Deep down I hoped that nature would be kind. After all, we were praised for not taking more proactive measures with our fertility, praised that we were trusting God. Now, I don't know that everything happens for a reason; I don't know if it's God who decides who's a mom or who isn't. What I do know, and knew then, is that the world works in mysterious ways. I knew that if I was meant to be a mom, I would be. If I was meant to bring my own offspring into the world, I would. And if I was meant to take a child without a home, or a child needing a better start into my heart, then I will. That is not to say that I won't do everything in my power to feel the joys and pains of birthing my own biological child. I will do everything in my power to produce a namesake for my husband.

With that said, it was off to the gynecologist once again (a new one this time after the IUD incident) to discuss going off the shot. She was very straight forward with me that it takes many women a long time to begin cycling again after the depo shot. She told me that it could be anywhere between 6 to 18 months before I would even start ovulating again. And with my history, we both thought it was a strong possibility that it would take me more towards the longer end. But still, it felt good to once again be on the journey of life, opening myself up to wherever it would take me. So, imagine my surprise when toward the end of February 2008 I started spotting. It was nothing exciting, not even panty liner worthy, but it was something more recognizable of that little red friend who had been there since I was 9, and had abruptly disappeared when I got my cancer patient badge. I diligently marked the date in my calendar, February 26, 2008, and awaited for that time to come the next month to be sure that I was really becomming a normal woman again.

So, now we're back to present. My date had come, and I had become aware that my breasts had been extremely tender for a few weeks now, that I had been cramping lightly but had become a little more intense. I found myself running to the bathroom, tampon in hand, on more than one occasion just to find a clear tissue. I had been urinating more frequently, and was tired all the time. And then, another scan came up again, and during the pre-screening they asked the question, "is there any possibility that you could be pregnant?" I told them that I wasn't on any birth control and wasn't doing anything to prevent it from happening, so they agreed that we should do a test before the scan.

But over that night, I couldn't help but think, could it be? My gynocologist had also told me that some women immediately get pregnant after coming off depo and never get a period back. I didn't think I'd be so lucky, after all I also had my endometriosis to contend with on top of the chemo and the depo shot itself. But, my mind was still reeling, and true to my controlling self, I decided to pick up a pregnancy test when I was grocery shopping that next afternoon.
I came home, went and peed on the stick, and continued to unload groceries. When I was finished, I returned to the bathroom, and....

THERE IS NO F%CKING WAY!

I grabbed the test and ran into the kitchen where there was better light. It looked like a line...a faded line, but a line nontheless. I was still in disbelief. I called my girlfriend who is currently pregnant with her second. "Can you come over here and look at this," I asked, "you have more experience with this than I do." I brought the test to her house, "yep, that's a line." I was shocked, I was breathless. I had gotten a two-pack of tests, and still doubting the line, I decided to take the other test first thing in the morning. There was no question about that one...I'M PREGNANT!

I couldnt' believe it...I still can't. Even as I sit here writing this, waiting to leave for my very first baby-mamma appointment, there that little voice in the back of my mind nagging me that maybe the test was wrong, maybe this is just another bad medical thing causing a positive result. I think that's the fear of cancer survivor talking, but yet deep down I know that it's true. I'm going to be a mom!

I have looked, yet again, for information on how to be a cancer survivor mom. So far, I've found nothing. Not even a website dedicated to women who get diagnosed with cancer while pregnant hasn't give me any information on how to do this. How does one be a mom and a cancer survivor? How does one cope with the fear of the cancer coming back, or the fear of the remaining side-effects combined with the fear of being responsible for another's life? So, I've decided to share my journey with all of you. I will chronicle my pregnancy and my post-partum days in hopes that other men and women going through this will know that they are not alone, and to let those who have these days yet to come know that there is still hope...