Part Two
In my last post, we left off in the Ultrasound room of UCLA Medical center, where the High-Risk pregnancy doctor has told us that there are anomalies with our baby, though they can't get a good enough look to determine exactly what. We are told to come back in 3 weeks so they can look again, and in the meantime, it's not anything we did wrong, go home and act normally.
Yeah, Right.
Now talking about children is a very different thing from actually having one. Growing up, my wife and I have always wanted children. And we used to joke with one another about the impending day when we would be parents. However, once we discovered that children was no longer "some day", but "9 months", things started to change with us. On the outside, we prepared the home for a child. From small things like buying electrical socket protectors to silly new-age things like cleaning the counters with vinegar (no chemicals!) In the words of Billy Cosby, we also began to study how to do 'Natural Childbirth', (Bill Cosby Himself, the classic stand-up, now has an entire new appreciation by us). Angela was bequeathed a bevy of baby bibles from her best buddies, and I - not wanting to be left out of the fun - purchased my own book The Expectant Father, an excellent book by Armin Brott that truly is one of the few, and only, books on the subject for men.
More importantly, we began to create a space in our lives for the child. Angela and I have always been a happy couple. Sure, we have our ups and downs - heck, we argue constantly - but all in all, we were content with what we had in our lives. Now we had to make space for another, and we dove into it wholeheartedly. We would talk to the baby, ask it questions trying to find out by telepathy what sex it was, what name it wanted, whether it liked chinese....we'll maybe not that. But along with the baby's physical growing came an emotional growth into what we thought of as a family. We were creating our own, and we liked it. Angela began to feel a connection with the passenger in her womb and as she began to show, I knew the glow was not all from horomones. One of my most magical moments was seeing our baby kick its legs around in the ultrasound. We joked that it was already a dancer, having learned rhythm and dance from Angela's samba dances.
And now that was in danger.
Most writers will tell you there are two distinct fears: Fear of what's known and Fear of the unknown. Terror versus Dread. That day we experienced both. The terror of knowing that something was wrong, and the dread of not knowing what it was. And although knowing that 'there's nothing we did, or can do' makes us blameless, it also makes us helpless as there's nothing we can do.
We took the rest of the day off to ride the emotional roller coaster. We'd read of complications, even heard about them, but this was not a lottery we thought we'd win. The next three weeks went by in a tense daze. There were good days, where the roar was kept shut out of our minds, and we could forget by throwing ourselves into our work. There were bad days where my wife would cry from nowhere and I would just shut down. I played the 'strong family male' type. 'Defending the cave' is how I would describe it to friends. Basically by making sure my wife had a secure place to be, I could move on with life. I'd deal with the emotion later, once the danger had passed. I'm sure some ancestor years ago survived a wolf attack because of this, but the only teeth were in my head and I was not a happy person. (My boss's boss commented that I was 'distracted' around the office. Well, wouldn't you be?)
Thanks to the glories of the internet, we researched every possible angle. Hoping to discover what it could be, and very thankful for what it was not. One of our symptoms was a low level of amniotic fluid, (the 'water' in the womb) and possibly a lack of fetal nutrition. On the advice of a family friend nurse, Angela began downing 4 liters of water per day, restricting her activity, and eating upwards of 60 grams of protein per day. All the hopes that it would find its way to the life inside.
Support began to pour in from our friends and family. Everyone we told was praying or sending happy thoughts our way. One of Angela's dance instructors, a very spiritual woman, told us to make a place for focusing on our child, a place to pray for it and to it. We make an altar near our bed where we placed the ultrasound pictures, a candle, and a book to write to our baby. We were waiting till we learned the sex to finalize a name, but a pet name was had was 'Charis' (karis), which is Greek for 'Grace'. Thus we would light our candle every day and talk to the baby. Hoping and wishing it to be safe. And in the tradition of every Religious dark comedy, we came back to church, looking for guidance and hope in this.
Back in life, the clock was ticking as 12/1/04 was the day we both feared and anticipated.
Yeah, Right.
Now talking about children is a very different thing from actually having one. Growing up, my wife and I have always wanted children. And we used to joke with one another about the impending day when we would be parents. However, once we discovered that children was no longer "some day", but "9 months", things started to change with us. On the outside, we prepared the home for a child. From small things like buying electrical socket protectors to silly new-age things like cleaning the counters with vinegar (no chemicals!) In the words of Billy Cosby, we also began to study how to do 'Natural Childbirth', (Bill Cosby Himself, the classic stand-up, now has an entire new appreciation by us). Angela was bequeathed a bevy of baby bibles from her best buddies, and I - not wanting to be left out of the fun - purchased my own book The Expectant Father, an excellent book by Armin Brott that truly is one of the few, and only, books on the subject for men.
More importantly, we began to create a space in our lives for the child. Angela and I have always been a happy couple. Sure, we have our ups and downs - heck, we argue constantly - but all in all, we were content with what we had in our lives. Now we had to make space for another, and we dove into it wholeheartedly. We would talk to the baby, ask it questions trying to find out by telepathy what sex it was, what name it wanted, whether it liked chinese....we'll maybe not that. But along with the baby's physical growing came an emotional growth into what we thought of as a family. We were creating our own, and we liked it. Angela began to feel a connection with the passenger in her womb and as she began to show, I knew the glow was not all from horomones. One of my most magical moments was seeing our baby kick its legs around in the ultrasound. We joked that it was already a dancer, having learned rhythm and dance from Angela's samba dances.
And now that was in danger.
Most writers will tell you there are two distinct fears: Fear of what's known and Fear of the unknown. Terror versus Dread. That day we experienced both. The terror of knowing that something was wrong, and the dread of not knowing what it was. And although knowing that 'there's nothing we did, or can do' makes us blameless, it also makes us helpless as there's nothing we can do.
We took the rest of the day off to ride the emotional roller coaster. We'd read of complications, even heard about them, but this was not a lottery we thought we'd win. The next three weeks went by in a tense daze. There were good days, where the roar was kept shut out of our minds, and we could forget by throwing ourselves into our work. There were bad days where my wife would cry from nowhere and I would just shut down. I played the 'strong family male' type. 'Defending the cave' is how I would describe it to friends. Basically by making sure my wife had a secure place to be, I could move on with life. I'd deal with the emotion later, once the danger had passed. I'm sure some ancestor years ago survived a wolf attack because of this, but the only teeth were in my head and I was not a happy person. (My boss's boss commented that I was 'distracted' around the office. Well, wouldn't you be?)
Thanks to the glories of the internet, we researched every possible angle. Hoping to discover what it could be, and very thankful for what it was not. One of our symptoms was a low level of amniotic fluid, (the 'water' in the womb) and possibly a lack of fetal nutrition. On the advice of a family friend nurse, Angela began downing 4 liters of water per day, restricting her activity, and eating upwards of 60 grams of protein per day. All the hopes that it would find its way to the life inside.
Support began to pour in from our friends and family. Everyone we told was praying or sending happy thoughts our way. One of Angela's dance instructors, a very spiritual woman, told us to make a place for focusing on our child, a place to pray for it and to it. We make an altar near our bed where we placed the ultrasound pictures, a candle, and a book to write to our baby. We were waiting till we learned the sex to finalize a name, but a pet name was had was 'Charis' (karis), which is Greek for 'Grace'. Thus we would light our candle every day and talk to the baby. Hoping and wishing it to be safe. And in the tradition of every Religious dark comedy, we came back to church, looking for guidance and hope in this.
Back in life, the clock was ticking as 12/1/04 was the day we both feared and anticipated.
posted by DLoyd76 at 12/20/2004 07:21:00 AM
<< Home