Ivy (ivy68) wrote,

  • Mood:

The life inside

There has been so much death, destruction, and upheaval in my city, and yet my constant focus has been on the life inside me. The day before the attack, I got a call from my doctor that a blood test had revealed a possible chromosomal anomaly in my fetus, and I spent the rest of that day in a daze of fear and anxiety. The next day, I had nearly forgotten, as I made my way home from a city on fire, and reached out to my friends and family to make sure everyone was OK. I had scheduled an amniocentesis for Thursday the 13th, and even though my hospital is at the center of the medical response, they told me to come in anyway. So amidst the chaos and the fear of the city, I was confronting my own fear that this creature I had already come to love might be so sick I would lose him.

The procedure went very well, and I was somewhat assured. A week went by, and I was distracted from worry about the baby by worry about everything else. A week and a half after the procedure, two weeks after the initial call, we got the call that everything was normal, and I am carrying a healthy boy.

During this awful time, I felt the first recognizable movements, which is the most remarkable feeling, and my favorite part of pregnancy. It gave me so much hope and joy. Each day they grow stronger and stronger, and C. can feel them when he touches my belly. I can even sometimes see a little bulge appear and disappear. He is stirring, he is active, and in the New Year, he will be born.

I was frightened about the prospect of bringing a baby into what seems to be a terminally fucked up world, but I remind myself that my grandparents were born during progroms and the Great War, my parents during World War II, and I was conceived during the Vietnam draft, as my parents cuddled in Philadelphia, not knowing whether my father would have to go or not. I hope he will bring light to the world. I know he will bring it to mine.
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic