Last week, I took my first loading dose of Humira in the hopes of finally putting my ulcerative colitis into remission.
I mention this because it’s not the first time I’ve taken Humira. In 2015, before I was pregnant with my daughter, I agreed to go on it. Back then, it was an easy decision somehow. I continued Humira throughout the pregnancy until 28 weeks when my gastroenterologist and I decided to discontinue it until after I gave birth. Then I pushed it off because I was nursing, then pregnant again, then nursing again… and we thought that I was in remission.
As it turns out, being only slightly symptomatic does not mean remission, and in January my doctor told me that our last effort at a lower key medicine hadn’t worked and I still had severe colitis. It was time to seriously look at biologics again.
This time, the decision was much harder. This time I was a mom and the idea of doing something that could in any way jeopardize my children or my future with them terrified me into a state of inaction. I wanted to make sure that, whatever I chose, it was the choice that would ensure that I would be there for my kids for as long as possible in the best capacity possible.
Humira pre-kids? Let’s give it a shot and hope it prevents future surgery.
Humira with kids? But what if I get cancer like they warn you of in the pamphlet and on commercials and don’t get to be there as my kids grow up?
Because that’s what we as moms do, right? Before children we worry about ourselves and our future, but once we have children, everything changes. We still worry about ourselves and our future, but in a much less selfish way. Our children become our top priority, even in our own health, and our decisions can be affected out of fear and love for them.
After discussions with my family, cautionary tales from those who didn’t take care of their colitis, a second opinion with a surgeon, and plenty of worrying, I conceded that potential benefits outweighed potential risks and said yes to Humira.
So last week, my husband came home from work to watch the kiddos as a nurse sat with me in our dining room, reteaching me how to give myself Humira injections. It’s still scary and I’m still worried, but as my doctor pointed out, if I want to be able to run around to my kids’ recitals and sports practices as they grow up, I need to get healthy now.
