It's not official until it's on Facebook...

On the verge of 29 weeks of pregnancy and I'm feeling grateful for my health, the health of my family and friends, and for being safe on Christmas morning. There are so many messed up things happening in our country and around the world, and we are privileged to be fairly insulated from or ignorant of many of them. I don't want to spend much time on the computer today, but since Mark and I just went "Facebook public" I figured I should add a new post here just in case. If this is the first post you're reading on my blog, thanks for being interested in our journey. In short, I was diagnosed with cancer in January of 2013 and have been cancer-free since December 2013. We were able to conceive on our own this year, which is a miracle in itself and even more so considering that I've been through chemotherapy. Feel free to read on to see some steps along the way. May you be well!

25 weeks

Tomorrow, I will have been pregnant for 25 weeks. Everything has been going smoothly. I didn't have morning sickness at all. The first trimester I was definitely tired, and felt like I'd wake up in the morning wondering when I could take a nap. I stayed physically active during that time, which helped a lot. I've picked up two different colds at times. The first round lasted about 3 weeks, and the most recent time it went away after about three days. Thanks echinacea tincture!

At 20 weeks, we had our anatomical screening ultrasound, which showed that all the essential parts are present... cerebellum, palette, four-chambered heart, kidneys, etc. We're trying to keep the baby's gender a surprise and the technician was great about telling us when to look away so that we wouldn't accidentally find out. People ask us if we know the gender, and often when we say we're letting it be a surprise they follow up with their own prediction based on any number of wives' tales. Mark enjoys this more than I do. I feel very strongly that I don't want to know the gender or even think I know the gender, partially because of a Gender and Women's Studies class I took a while back. In the class we learned that people talk to and act differently with babies, even unborn ones, when they know (or think they know) the gender.

The next adventure begins!

I've not written many posts this year, since the farther I get away from going through cancer and treatment, the less I want to think about it. In May, I had a checkup at my new hematologist at UCSF, including an optional PET/CT scan. This visit showed that I remain cancer-free. With NHL, that's a little tricky to know. But there were no enlarged lymph nodes or suspicious elevated metabolic activities anywhere in my body and my bloodwork was normal. I have no symptoms, although I never really did besides a big lymph node in my neck. Depending on when you start counting, I'm almost two years post-treatment. The hematologist drew me a graph showing that generally, if the NHL hasn't returned within two years, it's probably not going to. We didn't really get the all-clear until December 2013, so I will feel even more at ease after my next 6-month checkup. After that, I'll only have an annual checkup.

As I referred to in my April post, we have resumed our mission to become parents. We had an appointment with a reproductive endocrinologist that was recommended by the folks at U of M who helped retrieve and freeze our embryos. She worked in a private practice that told us up front they wouldn't accept our (excellent) insurance. I was really anxious leading up to that appointment, and basically it didn't go well. I didn't like the way that she failed to respond to my emotional state. She barely made eye contact with me, and even when I asked a question, she would answer it while facing my partner. She abruptly suggested that I be screened as a potential carrier of genetic diseases that can interfere with healthy pregnancy. It involved a take home kit where I would fill a large test tube with my salivas and then put it in the mail. If I was identified as being a carrier of any of the 100+ genes, then my partner would be screened, too. What came to mind was the movie GATTACA, which I used to show in my science classrooms. What strikes me now is how excited she was about having us move forward with IVF. She may have been genuinely excited for us, but I also imagine there would have been some major financial perks for her whether it was successful or not. Did I mention that she was young and attractive? That didn't help her case, especially when it started to feel like she was flirting with my partner. Luckily, my partner was open to trying other providers, and a friend suggested that we shop around instead of settling for someone that didn't seem like a good fit.

I soon scheduled an appointment with the Reproductive Medicine Center at UCSF and we've had a ridiculously better experience there. They had access to my cancer records since my hematologist is there, and they had clearly reviewed my file before I got there. The doctor I chose has a specific interest in helping people get pregnant after cancer. She suggested that we try on our own for a few more months, then try some of the more natural alternatives to IVF. She also suggested a "family prep screen" like the first doctor did, but she did it in a more respectful manner and offered a blood test version of the kit. It took two weeks to find out that I'm not a carrier for any of the diseases they screened me for. I asked about having my fallopian tubes evaluated, since that's something my mom had done when she was having trouble getting pregnant with my brother. The doctor said there was no reason to suspect I had blocked or damaged fallopian tubes, but that the procedure could be both diagnostic and therapeutic. So I had to wait for the right time in my cycle, then had the rather unpleasant hysterosalpingram procedure. It took about an hour and was the most painful thing I've experienced so far, but it ended up showing that both of my fallopian tubes are open.

Meanwhile, my partner was in China on a business trip. During the extra week he spent there, he visited a Taoist holy mountain called Huashan and prayed on the top of three peaks for us to have a baby. When he got back to the US it was right around when I was probably ovulating, so we tried the old fashioned way a few times. I had medication (Clomid) to take once my next period started that would help me to ovulate extra, but I didn't end up taking it because my period never came. After about 5 days past my expected period, we did a home pregnancy test and it said we were pregnant! I called UCSF and they had me do HCG bloodwork that day and three days later (on my partner's 40th birthday!) which confirmed I really was pregnant. We're now about 8 weeks along. Had our first ultrasound a week ago and saw a tiny fluttering heart beating at 126bpm inside a 5mm fetus. So amazing!

I feel a little different being pregnant. My breasts are tender most of the time, I get tired more quickly and am definitely taking more naps. My pants are already a little tighter, which makes sense since my uterus is already the size of an orange while the baby is only a little raspberry-sized thing. I'm having to eat smaller, more frequent meals, but I'm still going to the gym during the week and doing the same workouts which is nice. We have another ultrasound at UCSF next week and then we may switch over to seeing a midwife rather than a specialist for the remainder of the pregnancy. Hopefully I will be in the low-risk pregnancy category so we can have a home birth. Lots of research to do about providers and ways to prepare for something like that.

It feels a little weird to blog about this on the same site where I shared my cancer journey, but I suppose it's all part of the same journey. I'd like this to be an inspiration for other young people going through treatment who hope to have children afterwards. It is possible! I'm not planning to share this news on Facebook any time soon but it's been really fun to tell people in person. I figure if you're reading this then you've been following my story all along and you'll appreciate the good news!

I'm so grateful for the support we continue to receive from all around us, and thanks for reading!

Two birthdays ago I shaved my head

As I start my 36th trip around the sun, I'm grateful for my ponytail and my strongly beating heart. I don't have strong memories of my last birthday. I know I was a full-time student and working as executive director. I think we had a really nice potluck with friends. As this birthday approached, I felt anxious about getting older. I didn't want to make a big deal of my birthday, didn't want to give people ideas for gifts to give me, didn't make any plans until the day itself. I thought maybe I'd want to spend the whole day by myself. Part of the reason I was anxious is that we had an appointment with a fertility specialist scheduled for the day before my birthday. I think I was terrified that we'd somehow get bad news at that appointment.

Homecoming

Two years ago, on January 23 at 3:30pm EST I received a phone call from the University of Michigan. I was informed that the tissue removed from my neck included cells identified as Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. At the time, it was not clear what kind of NHL it was, and there was a possibility that it was a "double-hit" variety with a not-so-good prognosis. Within a few weeks, we learned that it was Diffuse Large B-Cell NHL, which is the most common type of NHL. More than two years later, I am healthy and am moving back to California to join my biological family. Tomorrow is our last day of a 5-day drive from Michigan to California. We've had four adults, two vehicles, and three cats in the caravan. Today I listened to a few lectures by Eckart Tolle from a CD that was given to me back when I was going through chemotherapy. I hadn't listened to them until today. A few things that stuck out to me were the phrases "Begin Within" and "Can I be the space for this?" I'm looking forward to some rest and play time once I'm settled in back in Northern California. According to a good friend's post on Facebook, Kalamazoo threw a "snow tantrum" after I left on Friday, dropping about 19 inches of lake effect over two days. I'm sure it's beautiful and that it's allowing people to slow down and be careful. I'm also grateful to be heading towards warmer weather. I've come to respect the Michiganders and their resilient attitudes towards deep and long winters. I think I'll miss the strongly defined seasons of the great lakes region, and I look forward to noticing the subtle changes in Northern California throughout the year. I'm returning to my home state with new awareness of food justice, race, and racism as well as internal dynamics such as mindfulness, prayer, and gentle loving. The cats are ready to stay in one place for a while after coping with new settings each night and spending all day in their respective crates and carriers. What a beautiful country we have! Today we passed through red rock and volcanic mountains, came close to seeing a meteor crater, and saw a pink/orange/purple sunset. I'm feeling a little scattered and probably just need to get to sleep for our last day of driving tomorrow. Good night!

One year of cancer free-ness

I just realized that my one year anniversary of being declared in the clear has passed. Last year, at this time, I was healing from having my central port removed, which was the first sign from my oncologist that she didn't expect me to need treatment in the near future. I am grateful for the fact that this anniversary came and went without me even noticing it, which is a privilege not always afforded to cancer survivors. I had my first 6-month checkup in November, which is essentially a physical exam and bloodwork, which showed no signs of recurring disease. It was tough to be back in the cancer center, remembering what it was like to be there for treatment, seeing other people who are "in it" and scared about the future. I was aware that I wasn't the highest priority patient that day, and remembered how much time the doctor spent with us at my first appointment. While it was strange to have her not spent much time with me at my check-up, I was aware that other people needed her more than I did. Since I will be moving to California in 2015, I will need to find a new oncologist to continue seeing for checkups. So it felt weird to have little closure with the person I relied on so heavily during my initial diagnosis and treatment.