The idea
of passing along a genetic and experiential heritage was a huge factor in my
decision to play "Russian roulette" with my fertility at this stage
of my life. Most influential in my thinking was my father-in-law's struggle
with an extremely quick and debilitating form of Parkinson's disease. We had
waited nearly twenty years to reproduce, thinking we would all live forever and
reproduction really wasn't a priority in any case. Now that I seem how much my
daughter looks so like her grandfather, it humbles me to have thought that way.
To see his pleasure and curiosity the past two days has made me realize how
precious and crucial are the physical sacrifices women make in carrying and
birthing their children. The reward, it seems to me, is after the birth; way
after the whole affair is done and over with. And I still don't feel that happy
yet, mostly due to suffering a nasty case of postpartum depression consisting of
suicidal thoughts and a deep blackness that an extra twenty mg of Prozac only
helps to part. But when I see my husband with his daughter, how he coos over
her and his face lights up, and my parents- in-law's smiles and eagerness to
accept this child, I feel that my suffering was worthwhile--undoubtedly the
most worthwhile action I have ever taken. I wish I could FEEL more, though; I
am still numb and walk in a fog, but it hit me over the weekend that what I
have done will live on long after me, and will carry my daughter's
grandfather's and her father's physical and spiritual legacy on long after they
have passed. In this, I feel more spiritually at peace than I ever have.
God
bless all mothers for the pain they have suffered and the sacrifices they have
made to ensure the legacies of their loved ones carry on. Amen.
