My Actual Letter to the Mother who Aborted her Baby with Spina Bifida

 

A note to my readers: 

Recently, I received an E-mail from a mom who contacted me for advice. She had a pregnancy affected by spina bifida, and at the recommendation of her doctor— she chose to abort. In addition, she wanted my advice on how NOT to have another baby with spina bifida. As you might have read in my previous post, I felt the entire gamut of negative emotions upon opening and reading that E-mail— anger, sadness, judgment towards her, and just an overall sense of melancholy that seemed to pervade my emotions for several days. 

In a desperate attempt to sort out my thoughts, I took to the only place I felt I could safely share my heart— this blog

 

CamelMeme

 

 

The backlash was almost immediate. I expected there would be pro-choice advocates (I am still very much on the fence in the abortion debate— so don’t ask me) who would argue that she acted on her rights. Really, I anticipated that. 

What I didn’t expect was the anger and vitriol that spewed, even from moms of children with spina bifida who know me personally. I was accused of not being a good advocate because a good advocate “doesn’t think of her own feelings.” 

How is it even possible to do that!? I could never put my own feelings aside, for it was my own feelings that helped me become an advocate for the spina bifida community. It is my emotions that fuel my passion for activism and education. I could never turn off my emotions. That is just absurd. 

However, I also was not prepared for the outpouring of love, support, and encouragement from many friends and followers who applauded my article. They felt it was a good tribute to how many parents of kids with spina bifida— and adults with SB, especially— feel when they come across stories like these. I will be forever grateful especially for these people, for they buoyed my spirits up during one of the most challenging times I’ve encountered in my 5+ years of blogging. 

What a difference four days makes! 

After a few days away from the circus (really, it was ridiculous!) I decided to finally reply to this woman with a clear head and lighter heart. I’ve also been physically sick with various illnesses which have had me very preoccupied. 

So, without further ado, this is what I actually said to her— verbatim, raw, uncut, no edits. And it was from the heart. 

 

Dear _____________,

Thank you so much for contacting me. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to contact someone with spina bifida after losing a baby with spina bifida.

First, let me say I am very saddened and sorry for your loss. However you lose a baby, it is heartbreaking and it must be so difficult. I admit, upon first reading your E-mail, I was quick to judge you. I felt angry that you did not want to have a baby with the condition that I have, as if having spina bifida means that my life is not worth living. This is why I did not answer you immediately. But after much thought, crying, and praying, I have come to realize that there are many like you who do not have the information they need to make this decision. I know for a fact that many doctors put pressure on mothers to have an abortion when spina bifida is diagnosed.

I have lived with spina bifida my whole life, but I have never been a mother, so of course, my advice is based on what I know from having spina bifida myself.

But, I receive many E-mails from mothers who are pregnant with a baby with spina bifida, and many who have children with spina bifida.

Let me start by saying that there is no way to guarantee that you won’t have another child with spina bifida. Nobody can promise you that.

Sadly, there has not been much research or information about spina bifida until recently. Honestly, the only way to guarantee that you won’t have a baby with any disorder or disease is to not get pregnant. A B-vitamin called folic acid has been shown in recent years to help prevent a child from having spina bifida, but even if you take it as recommended by a doctor, it only works about 70 percent of the time. So, that is not going to promise you a baby without spina bifida.

Here is the link to some information about folic acid published by the March of Dimes, a wonderful organization that helps prevent birth defects and support families of children affected by birth defects: http://www.marchofdimes.org/pregnancy/folic-acid.aspx

Finally, because you seem very determined to not have a baby with spina bifida, the final piece of advice I can think of offering you is this: if, by chance, you do end up having another baby with spina bifida, please know that it is NOT a death sentence, or a tragedy. 

I have met many, many families who have children born like me, with spina bifida, and who, like me, grow up to be happy, successful, even healthy adults. Yes, they sometimes go through many surgeries or other medical complications, but most can grow up happy and make friends, and as adults, get jobs, go to school, and even get married and have their own families. I have played with many children with spina bifida I have met through these families, and they are absolutely beautiful and precious, and very smart and active.

It is possible to have spina bifida and live a happy, healthy life. 

I work as a blogger, writer, and social media professional. My work has taken me to different places, as I am often invited to speak at events and conferences around the United States. I have connected with adults with spina bifida and families all over the world who reach out to me for advice or simply to know that someone else understands.

I do not mean to say that I never get sick or feel pain, because I do. I have had 19 surgeries and many, many hospital visits. My family has been through a lot, and it is not easy. Pain is a part of life, and even “healthy” children will get sick, get hurt, and suffer at some point. Every parent feels their job is to take away their child’s pain, but like my parents have done with me, their job is to stand by me, to hold my hand when I am having a hard time. They are my best friends and love me so much.

So please don’t think that having spina bifida means I have had a horrible life. Thank God, I live a wonderful life and I feel grateful for every minute of it.

I hope this serves to encourage you, no matter what doctors say, no matter what others say to you, to be the best mom you can be for your child, whether he or she has spina bifida or not.

That’s all you can really do.

 

May God Bless you and please contact me if you want to talk some more. I am here.

Laurita

 

Join Me in Getting Covered #TakeCareChat

Disclosure: This post is part of a campaign with Ad Council and Get Covered America. I will be compensated for publishing this post and for participating in the Twitter chat. All ideas and opinions are my own. 

 

If there’s someone who truly understands the value of having good health insurance, it’s me– trust me. I certainly wouldn’t be here without the vigilant care of many good healthcare providers and nurses, and there were times in my childhood when I was literally in and out of the hospital every other week.

Sadly, more than 1 in 6 Americans don’t have health insurance.

This is mostly due to one of the following reasons:

  • They don’t receive coverage from their employer 
  • They cannot afford coverage
  • They were previously denied coverage because of a pre-existing condition

 

Under the new Affordable Care Act, people cannot be denied health coverage because of a preexisting condition.  This is fabulous news for me, having spina bifida and hydrocephalus! Thanks to the ACA, insurance companies can’t turn me away because of that. 

I feel very blessed and fortunate to have access to good healthcare, and I don’t wish to take that for granted for a single second. But, if you’re not willing to take my word for it, perhaps you’ll listen to this adorable menagerie of pets who have a message for you:

 

 

What’s more, most people will have to pay a fine if you don’t enroll in healthcare up by March 31st. The 2014 fine is $95 for an adult or 1% of a person’s income, whichever is greater. (The fine is $47.50 for a child, and a family can only be fined up to $285.)

I’ll be joining Ad Council and Get Covered America TOMORROW from 1 to 2 p.m. E.T. during a Twitter chat where you can learn more and ask questions about getting covered. Be sure to follow @GetCoveredUS on Twitter and Tweet using the hashtag #TakeCareChat to participate in the conversation!

 

Parrot

In the meantime, you can visit GetCoveredAmerica.org to find out how you can enroll in health insurance, and to get answers to some frequently asked questions about the process. There are also some pretty awesome tools on the site, like the Get Covered Calculator, which can help you discover how much assistance you could qualify for to help pay for your insurance coverage.

Figuring out how to navigate the ins and outs of the ACA can be daunting, especially since it’s so crucial to your health and to the health of your family. But with the proper tools and resources, you’ll be enrolling in no time– and hopefully by the deadline of March 31st!

 

–Laurita

My Sin of Omission

DuctTape

 

Yeah, it’s been a while, to say the least.

I spent the last few hours posting photos, status updates, and responding to Tweets about an event I attended in Orlando, and which I plan to write about on my other blog.

Earlier tonight, I put on my casual-dress-professional-cold-weather attire and was present at an exclusive preview tasting at a chocolatier.

I sipped great wine, ate fine chocolate, and mingled with friends, old and new.

We exchanged lighthearted conversation about our blogs, and weighed in on other recent events many of us have attended.

I exchanged hugs, social kisses, and sincere thanks to the people who hosted and invited me.

And I did it all with the utmost sincerity. Of that, you can be sure. 

No one knew that, for about a week, I’ve been dealing with a persistent, painful bladder infection that has me cringing every time I pee (a.k.a. “self-cath,” but whatevs. Peeing is peeing.).

No one probably imagined that, every night for the past three nights, severe bladder cramps have kept me up late and have almost brought me to tears. (Well, not really close to tears– but only because I have a pretty high threshold for pain. I’ve grown “accustomed” to it, if that’s even possible.) 

No one could have known that, just this afternoon, I was on the phone several times with my urologist’s nurse, scheduling what will be my first appointment in years with him. I’ve been in a urology limbo of sorts, because he is a pediatric urologist, and while technically, he is supposed to see patients until they turn 21, I am a “special case,” because I have spina bifida and an augmented bladder. He performed my bladder augmentation surgery– my most invasive and dangerous procedure to date– when I was 10, and I trust him with my life. 

Indeed, no one, save for my parents, would have known any of this, because, simply put, I haven’t talked about it. 

And why would I talk about it?

Since the holidays, I’ve been to numerous blogger events, celebrated birthdays, weekday happy hours, workshops, and the like.

My posts on Facebook have often been the trigger for playful, harmless jealousy. Friends often comment, wishing they had my life. From what I usually post on my Facebook profile, I can’t say that I blame them. By all accounts, I seem to lead a pretty fabulous life. 

I’ve got news for you, though.

Everyone omits on Facebook. 

Yep, that’s right. From the bitchiest posts to the statuses that are downright inspiring, we are all guilty of carefully vetting and considering the content that we post on our social media profiles. 

Why would anyone assume I am an exception? 

In fact, if anyone has good reason to filter her output, it’s me. 

Because my girlfriends don’t want to hear during our ladies’ night out about how my urine stinks of ammonia and looks as murky as swamp water.

Because, as bloggers, while we all over-share to an extent, no one wants to hear at a professional gathering of social media influencers how Miralax isn’t doing the trick for me just yet.

Because, God forbid I should choose the joyful family Christmas dinner in Puerto Rico as the venue for disclosing how I’ve totally slacked off on my neurosurgery stuff and am now desperate to schedule a follow-up with my neuro to find out the results of my MRI, which I had done before the holidays.

Because God forbid I be more human than people can actually bear. 

Unsurprisingly, the issues I just described above (and many more) are very common topics of discussion on many of the private online groups and forums I’m a part of that pertain to life with spina bifida.

You might find it odd, but I actually don’t share too much in these groups. Don’t get me wrong– I’m eternally grateful for the love and support many of these people show me and others with spina bifida. I’ve forged many great friendships with parents of children with SB, and with adults with SB, all over the world.

I guess that I don’t feel the need to share everything about the spina bifida part of my life with them. Heck, they majored in this, as did I!

But I want to share it with you. 

And I want to be able to share honestly and openly with you– without any of the following responses that I’m dreading right now, and that I always dread:

1. Pity. Please, absolutely NO “I’m sorry you have spina bifida” talk. It makes me feel as if you believe that living with spina bifida is pitiful and shameful. And trust me– I don’t need that. 

2. Discomfort, awkwardness, squeamishness. I’m sorry if I slip up during lunch and casually mention I have to go cath. Usually I say “pee,” but occasionally I will slip up and make some allusion to the fact that I use a plastic tube to urinate. Obviously, I overlooked the fact that you are not as used to this as I am, and any remark that you make along the lines of “ew” and the like will only make you come across as a jerk. Please, grow up and get over yourself. Call me when your pee is prettier than mine.

3. Holy talk. You know what I mean here. I consider myself to be a religious/spiritual person with my own faith and personal relationship with the Creator. And if you say you’ll pray for me, I’ll gladly accept your prayers, good vibes, etc. But please don’t attempt to make yourself feel better about my ailment by saying that “everything happens for a reason.” It’ll upset me, and will only serve to make me wonder why this “everything” doesn’t seem to be happening to you. 

Simply put– I don’t expect everyone in my life to relate to my struggles, anymore than you might expect me to relate to all of yours. If you can’t relate to the situation, that’s perfectly fine. I think admitting you can’t understand what it’s like, is actually the first step towards putting yourself in another person’s shoes.

The ugly truth about life is that permanent chronic conditions like spina bifida can’t be cured, anymore than you can bring your deceased loved one back from the dead or force the cast of F•R•I•E•N•D•S to do a reunion.

It’s just not going to happen like that.

We all go through difficult, challenging, brutal stuff. So from here on out, I promise to try to level with you. I’ll try to be honest.

Are you willing to try to listen?

 

“Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”   –Albert Camus