I am 18 weeks pregnant. I am the bald, pregnant, 29 year old woman with breast cancer sitting in the waiting room of the OB clinic, with other pregnant women, waiting for my appointment- wondering if someone somewhere is crouched in a corner, behind a potted plant, getting ready spring up and yell in my direction, "April Fools!"
Today, I learned:
My baby is growing.
All the mind-boggling mathematical equations,
all the comparing and contrasting,
all the risk assessments
in my particular case
at this particular point in time
have all been concluded
and can be summed up by a 4 word statement.
A statement lacking scientific substance,
but floating on helium,
and shining with a candle's flame of hope-
"We don't really know."
I laughed when they said that.
I couldn't stop smiling.
Faith weighs more than science.
It always has.
I am told a mother's body is a miraculous thing,
protecting and nurturing a baby,
even at a mother's own expense...
Hold tight, Little One.
Take what you need-
I am here for you.