But not the kind we like. Not the Big Fat Positive that you have a 30% chance of with every IVF. A BFP that she only had a 1% chance of … yep another MS diagnosis.
I’ve been sitting here deciding whether or not to write this post because, well you know, every time I say it, it’s like it might actually be true. And you’re asking if I’m going to get it (because everyone does)… Well the answer to that is it would be completely statistically absurd and ridiculous. But you know, we have a bit of a habit in this family of falling into the absolutely absurd and ridiculous side of the stats, dammit.
I’ve decided to let the social workers know, because it was one of the questions on the forms and I feel it’s only right. I’m going to see an MS specialist (although they can never diagnose anyone who hasn’t had an episode). I’m not worried I’ll get it actually… in fact somehow I know I won’t.
I’d like to say I’m all light and positivity and totally ready to face this head on. But that would be a blatant lie. I’m not really looking at the worst case scenarios and worrying about that, there’s no point. But I’ve started to experience overwhelming anxiety about what bad news is coming next. Literally last week I was parking the car to go to the shops and suddenly I stopped breathing and a wave of nausea swept over me. It’s like I’m not actually scared I will never be a mother or that my sisters will be in wheelchairs at some point, I’m scared there’s more, that this is just the start of it. In the past four and a half years I’ve dealt with murder, infertility, marital separation, and now these diagnoses, and every time I think “I just need to get through it” I get dealt another blow.
I’m tempted to write comforting words, like don’t worry, I’ll be OK, this too shall pass. And those words would be true. But they would also be denying my heart the space it’s really in. And that would be denying me my own humanity right now.