Where the Fire Was

Uncertainty

The first time I met Dr. Wells, my OB throughout my first pregnancy, I was ten weeks pregnant. His cheerful blue eyes always creased curiously at the outer corners while he talked, he appeared to be smiling continuously, and oddly enough this comforted me. Which was more than necessary once the real questions started being answered, once we started discussing diet, could-nots, and the importance of being in touch with my own body. This led to the discussion of an amniocentesis, which would supposedly tell me if there were any defects ailing my unborn baby. What was he saying…that there could be something wrong? Or the test might say there is but there isn’t? What would I do with the information, besides worry harder for the next thirty weeks? Was this the hardcore reality of motherhood? I realized that as a mother you will be forced to live with uncertainty. It will greet you at every milestone, linger around every corner, and speak at the most inopportune moments.

I can remember waking up and just knowing that I was pregnant, it was just instinctual
for me. A week later I found myself at the Mexican Market, in a bathroom stall that stunk of
Fabuloso , fidgeting with a newly used two-for-one dollar store pregnancy test. All of a sudden I
was overwhelmingly anxious, that is where it all started; the uncertainty, that is. I knew that I
Was pregnant, I had been charting, praying, and hopelessly waiting for something to happen. So
why in the world was I standing there second guessing myself, and half wishing I could change
the results that were inevitable? I had already felt the first pangs of motherhood: this tremendous
feeling of awe-inspiring love, then worry, and hopelessness, and wanting everything to be right;
whilst not knowing for sure what that is.

I quickly realized that everything I was certain of, was to be questioned. From whether I
wanted a boy or a girl, and would I be a good mother despite my past, to whether I’d...