"I don't want any genetic testing."
There. I said it.
The words bounced off the walls and echoed into my ears with a power ten times stronger than when they initially escaped my mouth.
Did I really just say that?
Ian sat directly across me. Hands in a tight clasps and a look of confusion mixed with a pinch of support were resting softly on his face.
There was a moment of silence as everyone in the room tasted the words before actually digesting them. I guess we all wanted to make sure I wasn't suffering from a case of haste. That I had not rushed into this decision without doing my research.
There was really nothing to decide.
And from my upright posture and look of contentment, I knew they knew that we were all going to leave that room on the same page.
In one last attempt before waiving my rights, my doctor pulled out a piece of paper. It was a chart baring the age of a women on the left side and the odds of her carrying a baby with a genetic abnormality on the right side.
At the young age of 31, I was at a huge risk. In fact, he compared my first pregnancy to this one (a whole eleven years apart) and I gasped at the staggering difference in my odds now. I kept repeating to myself over and over again, "1 in 900."
If only I wasn't gambling away at my unborn child's life and instead playing the lottery, this would be a more exciting game with a very appealing number.
It was not.
Still, my mind was made. I was convinced that I did not want testing. I did not care to know about the condition of my child inside, besides the normal kicking, breathing and growing that is suppose to take place.
|Early picture of baby's face, showing chubby cheeks|
Ian wasn't completely sold on the idea.
"Ultimately, it's her choice."
I remember hearing those words as he repositioned himself against the uninviting doctor's office chair. He knew that I had made up my mind.
Together, we would take on any challenge that was presented before, during and after the birth of our baby.
But that did not mean I wasn't completely scared.
There isn't a moment in the day where I do not think about the baby.
How he will look?
When is he coming?
Just normal anticipation that comes along with this entire process.
What I do know is that I put my faith in God that he will not give us anything we cannot handle. After all, it was he who gave us another baby several years after a miscarriage. This is ALL him.
I am disabling my fears...letting go...and letting God.