Feelings

I don’t know how it’s possible, but I feel like my baby fever is almost as bad as it was before I had Evangeline. Perhaps it’s because she’s at a fantastic age. She’s been sleeping through the night for many months, she’s walking around and talking to people and just generally being awesome. Maybe it’s because Andy and I have been doing so well. Even with the stress of him not having a job, I’m really working against my OCD, and our occasional sessions together working on aligning our parenting strategies have helped a lot.


I see people announcing pregnancies and having babies and that longing is back to feel my tiny tot kicking around on the inside.

The problem is… well… me. My freaking kidneys. I know that my nephrologist would not want me to have another baby. He said as much once before. But it’s my body. And maybe this sounds ridiculous to people without serious, life-threatening diseases, but if I’m going to need a transplant anyway, I might as well get the most out of the kidneys I’ve got. Evie came out perfect and healthy, and I feel like if I lose these 50lb I’m trying to lose, I’ll be a total of 80lb lighter than when I got pregnant with her. So that should mitigate the pregnancy stress!

But that’s just one hurdle. We also have my RE and MFM. They both have to be on board. It was hard to get them on board the first time. But I really don’t feel like they should get to tell me what to do. If I was a “normal” person, and not infertile, they wouldn’t have a say. The embryos I have are MINE. They can’t tell me what to do (or not do) with them. Or they shouldn’t be able to.

I haven’t gotten my kidney tests done. My year of “ignore kidneys and focus on baby” is up. But I still don’t want to go back to that life. I have so few options and I’m terrified of Cellcept. Like I was ready to start it because I’m one to get things over with, but now that I’ve been sitting so long I am scared. The last time I had kidney medications they were infusions and I was sitting in the hospital hooked up to machines. I spent the days in pain trying not to pass out. I don’t want to feel like that. This is just a pill, but it’s a powerful pill that will completely destroy my immune system. And I don’t want to know it’s my only option. Which is what’s going to happen when I get my tests done.



I honestly thought after I had Evie I wouldn’t feel this way. Like my kidneys were totally secondary. My doctor always says “It was worth it, right?” And it was. It was so worth it I would literally do it again right now this minute. And I feel sort of greedy for wanting more. And it’s not that Evangeline isn’t enough. It’s just that… I don’t ever want her to be alone. I want her to always have family to share how amazing she is, and share her love with. And I won’t always be around. I’d love to be… but I can’t be. She doesn’t have any cousins and probably never will. And I want to experience it all again. All of the wondrous moments of being a mother. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done!

I also hate that my life and future are being dictated by this disease I have no (or very little) control over. Andy’s life, too.

We have the room for more children (at least 1 and they’d have their own rooms!). We live in a fantastic neighborhood with family close by. Great schools. And my God do we love. Andy and I love each other. We love our daughter. It just feels so wrong that this isn’t up to us. It’s up to doctors and two tiny organs that don’t want to do their jobs.

And I’d absolutely adopt children, but I already have 3 waiting for me. I want them. I want to give them their chance. If we didn’t, I’d probably be pushing for filling out adoption papers. But we do.

I’m so incredibly frustrated today that this isn’t up to me. It wasn’t up to me when we had to deal with Andy’s tumor and infertility. It wasn’t up to me whether we could even go through treatments. All of these things that so many people get so easily are taken away from us. Because of things we can’t control. So now I sit here and stare at pregnancy announcements once again, feeling as infertile as ever. I thought that would go away. I really did. As it turns out, not being able to have a child, be it your first or not, freaking sucks.

So I’m making the appointment and we’re going to the doctor and I fully expect her to tell me I need to use a gestational carrier which I clearly can’t afford. I expect my Nephrologist to warn strongly against it and get upset with me. Why do these people get to be angry that I want to bring another life into this world and shower it with love and affection?

It won’t be easy. Nothing ever is. But we’re going to see how it goes. It was a miracle the first time and we might need a bigger miracle this time. There’s always a little piece of me that thinks, with every test “Maybe this time will be the time that you’re healed”. So. Maybe this time.