Settling in...

As some of you may know my wife and I found out earlier this month that we are going to have a child. This came as a surprise because, in point of fact, we were told that K could not conceive. As with most surprises in life, we had to come to terms with this and I think we were both surprised by how much we both found we noticed we had issues to come to terms over.
First and foremost we had to accept the fact that K was not just pregnant, but 6 months pregnant. The doctor who gave me the news said (in part) that we would need to speak with an Ob. and decide "what to do about the pregnancy" (just what you want to hear with your father in law sitting next to you). Well, as you may know, there is not much that can be decided in regard to a pregnancy that is 6 months along. Political and religious discussion aside the first issues at hand were; is the baby developing normally, is K in any way at risk, and finally what the hell are we going do?
We have since come to learn that our baby is developing at the expected pace and well, we'll have to see about rest of it when he gets here. Something K and I talked about a great deal in our discussions about ever wanting to have children was my low vision. This low vision problem (high myopia or near sightedness) came down the line through my father's side my father, is the only one of my grandmother's children to have it, he has one cousin with the condition. Complications can arise from this level of near sightedness but there is no real "expected" pathology. It is such a different world now then I was born into that having a child with low vision these days is so very different. Surgeries that were new and ground breaking in the past are quite common and some even widely recognized in the public.
I think I can finally come to why I sat down to compose this entry. One of the issues I found I had to come to terms with was feeling guilty for wishing my son will have no vision problems or any problems at all . Every disabled person must at some point face a very hard fact, that you would not wish your condition on your worst enemy. Some choose more active ways of coming to terms with this, some just live in denial. At the core of this issue is the question "well, does admitting I don't want this for my child mean I am saying I am flawed and damaged?" Well, duh, yes, you are saying that of yourself. I can remember the exact time in my life when I first started to think about this. There was a show on ABC called Life Goes On about a family with a child with Downs Syndrome. The parents of this child find out they are pregnant again (their oldest child is 19) and are concerned that the baby may have Downs. The issue they struggle with is to terminate the pregnancy or not. This causes friction for their son and themselves (the baby turns out not to have the condition). I remember a line from the show where the mother asks the son to be truly honest with himself and ask if he would really want another being to come into the world with Downs Syndrome. I remember this show made me squirm, I wasn't really sure why yet though. I know now I wasn't really ready to think that way about my self and my life yet.
Fast forward to my junior year of college. I am taking an intro to sociology class and we are discussing the Human Genome Project. One aspect of the HGP is unintended consequences in the area of eugenics. Data from the HGP will allow people to know what genes can be turned on or off in a fetus (this "light switch" method is still a ways off even now, though gene suppression is a reality). Now, for the first time I wondered "Hey! What if certain genes were turned off in me? I might not be the me I am now!" (Oh, youth!) It was not until my professor reminded us that until you are faced with the daunting specter of admitting to yourself that, out of love, you wish nothing but the best of health in mind and body for another, this topic really is academic.
So she was right. I never new such angst as I have come to know in these past weeks. What I have come to be most grateful for is that it is not angst over feelings about me and myself. I know my wife feels much angst, some the same, some of a totally different kind that I will never know. We are trying (with varying degrees of success mind you) to deal with the stress of waiting to find out how the next phase of the journey will begin. Imagine being told you are going to journey to the moon but no one will tell you how you will get there, just that it is going to be one hell of trip.
With age comes wisdom, I am so happy for that. Despite the tolls we pay on the way of wisdom, I am happy for that.