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“It’s been six months since my transplant,” I stated.
Dr. Malach frowned. “You didn’t plan this pregnancy.”
I furrowed my brow. “But if my lupus is under control and my meds are safe, then what does it matter? What would we have done differently if we’d planned this?”
“It hasn’t been a year since your transplant,” he pressed. “Regardless if everything else is in order, it’s too soon.”
“What happens if I go through with this?” I asked. “Is my kidney going to fail? Is the baby going to be safe?”
“Your donor kidney should perform fine,” he assured me. “However, you’re at high risk of preeclampsia. It’s a serious blood pressure condition that often develops in pregnancies like yours.”
He said it like it was a sure thing, but my own health wasn’t my main priority right now.
“Is the baby going to be safe?” I repeated again. I couldn’t help but notice he’d avoided my question multiple times now.
He leaned back in his chair, sighing heavily. “The truth is your condition puts you in a higher risk category than the average mother. If you continue with this pregnancy, you should expect a miscarriage—or worse. No doubt about it, if you try to have this baby, you’ll certainly die.”
My stomach clenched, and I thought I was going to throw up.
“I don’t see a reason to continue with the pregnancy,” Dr. Malach said coldly. “Your best option is to get an abortion while it’s still early.”
My breath caught. I’m sorry—what did he just say?
“I don’t want to do that,” I stated breathlessly.
He tilted his head to the side like he cared, but it came off looking more like a shrug. “I’m afraid that may be your only option. I don’t see why you would continue the pregnancy.”
I gaped at him. “I didn’t plan for this, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want this baby. My husband and I wanted to start a family someday.”
“That’s an irresponsible decision for someone with your illness. It appears you have a habit of being irresponsible.” His gaze darted toward my stomach.
What the hell was wrong with him? I was a grown-ass married woman, not some teenager who didn’t use protection.
“I want to keep the baby,” I stated firmly.
He sighed and sat up straighter. “I understand why you would want to start having children now. Many women start having children young, so they don’t end up old and alone.”
“Alone?” I balked. What the hell was he talking about?
“Many women try to get pregnant before it’s too late. After all, once you’re past your prime, your husband is going to find someone younger and leave you,” he stated, like it happened to everyone. “Men want to impregnate young women, after all, and since sperm remains viable no matter how old a man is, it’s understandable you want to do whatever it takes to keep your husband.”
I was so shocked; all I could do was gape at him. Nothing had left me this speechless before.
“Regardless, there’s too much at stake here,” Dr. Malach continued. “Besides losing your life, you could pass on your lupus.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I snarled. “I’ll still love this baby, and even if they’re sick, I’ll take care of them anyway.”
The doctor rolled his eyes skeptically. “Everyone thinks they’ll love their child no matter what, until the child shows up with a disease. You’ll regret it once the child gets here. Are you sure you want to live with the guilt of knowingly passing on a chronic illness?”
He spoke as if it would be my fault if my baby got sick. Even if it was, did that make my child’s life any less valuable?
I knew the answer to that. Yeah, lupus totally sucked, but I still deserved to live. And so did this baby, even if they were sick.
“You’ll also have to consider how you’ll take care of a sick child,” Dr. Malach said. “Your illness will make it difficult to care for even a normal child. You couldn’t care for any baby adequately, let alone a disabled one.”
“I’ll have help,” I insisted.
“Do you have a financial plan to help you pay for medical assistance?” he asked. “Where are you going to get the money to pay for this child? What are your employment options?”
