People have been telling me how raw my posts had been lately - which contradicts my very occasional writer's block before this. I guess words flow so much more easily when it comes from the heart. So here goes another series of word vomit.
Three months, countless appointments and other than the sentence “you have cancer”, there’s a new string of words that haunts me more - "you can’t get pregnant."
You would think that a liberal millennial would rather be conquering the world through travel or career progression - but not me.
Before I wanted to become a nurse, a wife and heck, even before I wanted to become a baker, I wanted to be a mother more than anything. Even if knowing that motherhood comes with a whole ton of responsibilities and knowing how movies often create perfect characters that depict an inaccurate representation of perfect women juggling her career while taking care of her family, I still wanted it. I mean sure, the sleepless nights and defiant teenage phase could almost be the death of every mother but take away all the negatives, you'd come to realize that parenthood altogether is actually a rewarding experience.
And I took it for granted that as a woman, I would always have that privilege.
Having to live through PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) throughout my adolescent years have made me grown accustomed to the fact that the diagnosis already lowered my fertility chances. Still, seeing that it's somewhat reversible, low chance was still better than no chance.
While the topic about family and kids had never been a priority in the beginning, it was something my oncologist finally wanted to branch out to.
She explained how chemo could affect the functions of my ovaries and eventually decrease my fertility rate. Of course, there are options like taking monthly injections to preserve the ovaries but then again, with a pre existing medical history like PCOS, I’ll be back to square one.
Putting science aside, and putting into the equation that cancer runs in my DNA and that Aziz has a family history of autism, do I really want to bring a human being in this world knowing that he/she may have a high risk of having those health conditions?
I've seen many couples beat those odds and end up with happy and healthy children. I can't put to words about how I feel towards this issue but I know what it's like to have cancer. It's daunting and painful and something I never hope another person should ever have to experience - especially not my kid.
Choosing not to have kids by conceiving them just because he/she may be at high risk of having a fucked up disease like cancer may sound irrational, selfish even. I could choose to adopt and there's still no guarantee that the kid would be cancer free. But to me, the stakes were still too high - and I didn't want to risk it.
Aziz had a whole other perspective and said that I should opt for those monthly injections to preserve my eggs because even if we fail, at least we know that I tried.
It was a heavy topic for two twenty-something year olds to have to discuss way before marriage comes into the picture. But it's happening now and although we both have opposing views towards this situation, he supports me nonetheless.
For the longest time ever since I was little, my idea of happily ever after was marrying a good man and to have a family with him. Although it was only child's play, I still thought of names, their possible talents and hope that they'd have Aziz's resilience and heck, even my stubbornness.
But the thing about happily ever after is that it only exists in fairy tales. In real life? This is it. This is what I get.
I start chemo tomorrow and it breaks my heart that when I start, there's no turning back - that this is possibly where my bloodline ends. And while I am well aware that adoption could be an option, it was still something I never thought I had to resort to.
But right now, I'm focused on my next nearest happily ever after - which is completing 16 cycles of chemotherapy.
If you've reached here, thank you for following me on my journey all this while. I'll be sure to keep this space posted for any progression in my treatment.
Till then - spread love, sugar plums.
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