Bipolar Babies

I’ve agreed to go in on a 30-day blogging challenge with my friend Nicole. Yesterday was my first post in that series, and this one is continuing the trend. My writing skills are less impressive outside of my manic states, but writing is therapeutic nonetheless, so why the hell not.

Today I wanted to talk about something that’s been discussed a lot in the bipolar forums: not having children because of not wanting to pass on bipolar disorder. My first instinct is to say this is ridiculous. Most people will develop some disorder or another in their lifetime, even if the parents start out perfectly healthy, so are you really protecting your child from much harm? And is bipolar so terrible that we must fear someone ending up with the disorder? If I ended up with a child with bipolar, sure, it would be doubly hard, but I wouldn’t think of them as literally unworthy of being born. If anything, I could relate to what they were going through and offer support the best way I know how.

I think it’s an insult to bipolar people everywhere when we talk about not wanting our children to inherit our disorder. Are there not beautiful people in this world who suffer from bipolar disorder? I think I deserve to exist, and any potential bipolar babies I have deserve to exist too.

I may be pregnant as I type this. My partner and I have not been using birth control, which is highly irresponsible as I take a medication that causes serious birth defects in as many as 12% of babies born to mothers who took the drug. If I were pregnant, I’d stop the medication and hope that 2 weeks of exposure hasn’t caused serious harm. Technically I should be off of the drug before conceiving. It’s a calculated risk what we’re doing. I don’t think my partner understands the risks fully and is just interested in seeing if he can get me pregnant.

My main hesitation in being a bipolar parent isn’t in the child inheriting my illness, but not being able to handle the things children require you to put up with, like loud noises. The sounds of tiny human voices or loud breathing can send me into a rage. I fully intend on building an isolation chamber in my future home that I can retire to as needed. If I’m going to be a parent, I see such a room being utilized regularly.

I’m strong though and I do think I could handle it. Financially is another question. But I don’t have all the time in the world, either. I’m 33 and my clock is ticking.

It feels like I have a choice. I remain happy and stable on my meds, or I go off of them to become pregnant and risk relapsing. I haven’t had a significant episode in over two years. It’s my longest period of stability to date, so you can see how I’d be hesitant to give that up. I feel selfish for viewing the creation of another human life as an inconvenience to my mental health.

Any pregnancy I have I would be on pins and needles the whole time worrying if I’d have a healthy baby, so maybe abortion is the answer if I am pregnant this month. I would be afraid my partner would never forgive me for that, but it’s my body and my choice. I also don’t have the attachment to fetuses that other people in this country do, and view abortion solely as a medical decision. I’ve had one before and would not hesitate to have another. Thank fuck I live in a state where it is still legal and accessible.

But if I end up keeping it…man, I think the cigarettes are going to be the hardest to quit. How will I ever survive!