Do I want kids? That’s always been the question…
For a while I really wanted them. Being pregnant looked like a vacation (funny thinking of that now because I’m sure it’s not) and the idea of passing down family traditions appealed to me.
After my initial cancer diagnosis, having kids freaked me out. Mainly because I didn’t like the idea of something foreign growing inside of me.
I know having a life inside of you is different from having cancer grow inside of you, but giving my body over to anything else started to scare me. Plus, I was unable to imagine wanting to give up my life and make someone else a priority.
And then wanting kids came back. My husband really wants them. I know we would be great parents. And, of course, there was that visit to my radiation oncologist who looked at me one day and said, “It wouldn’t be fair of you to have kids, You don’t want to spread your genes.” Don’t tell me what to do and never put down my genes! That was four years ago…
Fast forward and I have been straddling this issue all this time. Now with my new diagnosis (BC metastasis in the bone and possibly liver) the kid option is off the table in this lifetime.
I still don’t know that I want them. But I hate being told I can’t have them. There is a grieving of that possibility that runs deep even though I may very well have chosen against motherhood.
Writing this now, I am trying to think of something I thought I could never do again because of my condition. My hip hurts from the bone tumors and I can’t run anymore. I mean, I can’t run yet. Because there may be some things that this disease will keep me from doing. But it’s not going to keep me from everything.