Knowing (and Not)

The boys finally got their H1N1 vaccines today. I didn't want to deal with crazy lines, so we went through their pediatrician's office. Unfortunately, their pediatrician's office didn't get any of the mist, so I was forced to inform the boys that there would be needles involved.

I think we all still have traumatic memories of their five-year check-ups, at which they both received several immunizations and I discovered (too late) that when I had warned them there would be "shots," they had no idea what that meant.

But this time I figured we'd be prepared, so I gave them a heads up last weekend and have since been met with daily complaints, whines, and questions about why they have to do this. I informed them that sometimes you have to do things that you don't like to stay healthy. I went so far as to explain that while I was in the hospital pregnant with them, I had to get two shots every single day and that I didn't like it, but (and I swear this wasn't intended to be a guilt trip) "I did it because it helped keep you safe in my tummy." Seriously, I spoke those very words maybe two days ago.

So imagine how I felt today when I learned of this research, which says that beta 2 adrenergic agonist drugs might cause autism. More precisely: "Prenatal exposure to continuous high doses of beta 2 adrenergic agonists can permanently dysregulate signaling from the beta 2 adrenergic receptor."

Terbutaline, the drug that was injected into my body twice a day, every day, for 3 and a half weeks while I was pregnant, is one such beta 2 adrenergic agonist drug. Now, I don't usually jump at every article claiming such-and-such may cause autism, but it's not that often that the circumstances being described so closely match ours.

I'd say shock is the most appropriate way to describe how I felt when I read this. Then anger, then sadness. I've said over and over that I want to know why, but I guess I wasn't prepared for the possibility that something so avoidable could be the reason my little boy may face lifelong challenges.

And no, it's not concrete. I can't say with any certainty that this is what it was...that had I not been given those injections I would have two neurotypical children. If anything, I probably lean more in the direction that had I not had those injections, I might not have either of my kids today.

Terbutaline slows contractions almost instantly. Even combined with my IV of magnesium sulfate, it was never able to stop my contractions completely, but it definitely slowed them down and I do believe that slowing down my contractions allowed me to make it as far as I did with them. Had they been born when I was admitted to the hospital at 23 weeks, I don't think they would be alive. And if they were, we would likely be dealing with challenges far greater than high-functioning autism.

But...it's not as if I made an informed choice. I didn't know. Logically, I can't feel guilty about that, but there's something so sad about the idea that there was actually a moment when things could have been different.

Still, if we're talking risk versus reward, I wouldn't risk what I have. If I ever get my time machine, I won't go back to find out whether that drug made the difference between my babies living or dying on the off chance that had they survived, then maybe Owen wouldn't have autism. That's something I can live without knowing.