[stylist] Gratitude prompt

[Bridgit Pollpeter]

I tried posting this yesterday, but it didn't seem to go through. This
was actually published a year ago for my World Herald blog, but it seems
to express the sentimint of this prompt. Since I have very little time
in which to write these days, I'm using this piece. If I have a little
time, I'll try something fresh.

And Like that, Life Changes

I look down at the object in my hands. So small and slim, and yet able
to carry life-changing news. Cradling it, my mouth stretches in silent
revelry. Ross holds my face between his hands as we stare quietly,
breathlessly, into one another's eyes. And just like that, the last
three years slip away like distant memories.

The waiting room buzzed with quiet commotion. Ross and I gripped each
other's hands; his right, my left. Anticipation settled throughout our
entire bodies. The nurse announced our names, and we paced towards the
doctor's room with barely contained excitement. We were consulting a
high-risk obstetrician about a potential pregnancy.

After months of discussing it, we decided to seek medical advice. I've
been a type 1 diabetic since I was four-years-old. Any diabetic
pregnancy is considered high-risk, and I knew diabetic women who had
successful pregnancies; why should I be different?

Being different is the story of my life. I should have known better.

We left the doctor's office, trudging towards the elevator, wanting
nothing more than to get out of there. Our hands reached towards one
another-a magnetic energy manipulating us. All I felt was cold. A deep
landscape barren, desolate. Blustering winds tore at my bones.

Two more doctors would deliver the exact same blows. "No, if you were
pregnant, you will die and possibly the child." What parent gambles on
those odds?

Ross sustained me through the hurricane leaving us weak, homeless, but
standing.  In each other, we found a sliver of joy.  We rebuilt our
life, picking through the fragments.  Strength came in silence, hope,
love.  Together we stood, in sickness and in health,
'til-death-do-us-part.

Strength came fresh and renewed, but longing seeped into every aspect of
life.  My dream, my hope to call a child mine, was never out of reach.
Every turn, every encounter picked the healing scab away. Blood
anointing pain; misery embracing my unwilling body.

Pregnant women on the bus, complaining of aches and pains that I would
never experience.  Mother's swinging giggling children at the park, and
pushing chattering babies in jogging strollers.  Rain soaked the land,
blurring the landscape into a smudged image.

Torn, battle-scarred, wanting to just let it go, yet we picked at the
scab once more. Longing is a tough addiction to break. We asked a new
endocrinologist if a natural pregnancy was possible. We expected similar
results.

"Oh, it's perfectly possible; and if anyone can do it, you can."

Shock, excitement, elation, confusion-so many emotions merging together.
Clouds parted allowing a sliver of joy to caress my worn features.

Four months were spent preparing. A diabetic bootcamp, following a
strict regimen just to even try. Appointments with every specialist
imaginable; test upon test, lab after lab. Weeks of trekking to and from
appointments, then, we were given the greenlight, the okay to finally
pursue a dream we thought broken and unattainable. We still readied
ourselves for disappointment; we were cautious with our fragile hearts,
expecting a long, tedious journey.

Yet here I am, holding this precious device, a pregnancy test,  in my
trembling hands. I look up at Ross as he holds me in his strong, steady
arms. I can not visually see his face, but I search it, not sure if I'm
dreaming.

He holds me close, kissing my forehead, then my lips. "We're having a
baby."

And just like that, life changes.

Sincerely,
Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter, editor, Slate & Style
Read my blog at:
http://blogs.livewellnebraska.com/author/bpollpeter/
 
"History is not what happened; history is what was written down."
The Expected One- Kathleen McGowan