That’s a nice scarf, she said. I guess the compliment wouldn’t have been so awkward if it hadn’t come seconds after my primary care doctor told me it was unlikely for me to have a healthy pregnancy. I mean… my scarf was brown and cotton. It wasn’t even that hot and definitely wasn’t high fashion.
The awkward moment started when we discussed my creatinine levels, which measures how well your kidneys function. The lower number the better. Ideally, I need to be at a 1.2 to be “healthy enough” for pregnancy. I am currently at 1.9, not as bad as 2.4, where I was before, but a far cry from where I need to be.
We went over all my numbers, cholesterol, iron, etc. then it came time to discuss “thee number”.
She looked dumb founded when I told her I still wanted to get pregnant – as if I told her that texting while driving was a good idea.
I told her my kidneys were improving steadily.
Then she said it.
“But they could stop improving. 1.9 may be your baseline.” Unbelievable. I could feel the tears coming up as soon as she stepped out of the door.
Not that single tear crying either. I was near sobbing. Maybe it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, because I’ve heard this before from my doctors. And when I say doctors, I mean a team of doctors: my rheumatologist, nephrologist, gastroenterologist and last but not least the evil cardiologist.
About a year and a half ago I had an abnormal EKG and had to see a cardiologist. She also provided her “advice” about not getting pregnant and coldly told me to highly consider adoption. The “team’s” advice is not unfounded. Pregnancy with lupus is tough… I’ve heard my share of horror stories and success stories.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with adoption, but let me be frank. To someone who wants to carry a child, adoption seems like acceptance of failure. The failure that my body failed, that I failed myself, that I failed my husband and my family. Yes, this is a messed up psyche… I’m well aware.I pray that my heart changes if God chooses us to be blessed with a child through adoption.
In the meantime, I’m glad my faith in God helps to remember that God is a miracle worker and he makes things happen out of impossible situations. And yes, I still see my primary care doctor. She’s a good doctor and is honest even if it’s hard for her patients to swallow. And other than asking me the annoying pregnancy question every visit, which I brush off, I know she’s just concerned.