I last saw my neurologist in December of 2015. I was 7 months pregnant and they said that they would like me to have an MRI in March, after I gave birth, just to see how things were going since a relapse is more common in the weeks following childbirth. Since I’m almost always very agreeable with any request a healthcare provider makes of me, I said sure no problem. We’ll call you to set it up, they said.
March came and went without a call. As did April, and May, and now most of June. My next appointment is on July 12th and the subject of the MRI will likely come up again.
During December’s discussion, they said that since I was planning on breastfeeding my baby, I would need to “pump and dump” my breastmilk for 24 hours following the MRI due to the contrast dye I’d be injected with. “No problem,” I said. Naïve, pregnant me assumed I’d be able to pump 24 hours’ worth of feedings well in advance and just feed baby-to-be from the bottle until I was in the clear. Baby-to-be would happily drink my lovingly-pumped milk, I’d have my MRI, and life would be roses.
Ha. Ha-ha-ha-ha. That is the sound of my maniacal laughter at the whimsical notion of Baby-to-be disappearing and the reality of Baby-that-is taking its place. Baby-that-is is a lovely 4-month-old girl named Kira who laughs in the face of a bottle. And sometimes cries. And absolutely refuses to drink from one. Well, I take that back—she’ll occasionally sip from one, maybe even drink an ounce here and there. But 24 hours’ worth? An entire day??
So I’ll politely explain the situation and say “no” to an MRI with contrast until she’s weaned. Sorry-not-sorry.
I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.