My sister-in-law is twelve weeks pregnant. I’m thrilled for her and my brother. I pray each night that their baby makes it here safely after forty full weeks to cook.
Last night my brother and I were talking on the phone and he was excited because they’d heard the baby’s heartbeat that day. Much excitement ensued.
The doctor my sister-in-law is seeing told her that, due to her ‘advanced maternal age’ (ha! I was advanced maternal age when I had Olivia. Hahahaha.) she’ll need extra testing.
I told my brother that the tests don’t have to mean anything. That they can just help him and his wife be more prepared in case there is something for which they need to prepare. You know?
I’ve said before that I feel lucky that we didn’t know Olivia’s diagnosis before her birth but I can definitely see the benefits of getting a diagnosis prenatally. Being able to plan, to research, to grieve that ‘perfect’ baby before you are holding the one you can’t imagine your life without can be very good things.
Not that I expect anything to be wrong. I mean, odds are in their favor.
But then, we didn’t expect Olivia to have 5p- syndrome either and well, look how that turned out. While I admit that it turned out pretty amazing because she’s defied odds at every turn, I don’t wish that on my brother’s child. Life can be challenging enough without adding special needs on top of those challenges.
So yes, they’ll take the tests, they’ll wait for the results and they’ll try to be ready for whatever comes their way.
That’s pretty much a good recipe for life, don’t you think?