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Jeanette's Pregnancy Journal

Week 25
~ Hardwired

By Tuesday I felt well enough to start trying to organize some things, like what should stay and what needs to go. I did not get through much, some DVDs and CDs and a pile of junk mail, but it was an accomplishment for me. I also left the house and ran a few errands to the library, the university, and picked my daughter up from school.

I do not feel 100% but decided to return to work determined not to let anything stress me out. Returning was bittersweet because I learned the evening before that one of my colleagues from my training cohort had left the company without any explanation given. Considering that she was the spark of the entire group, work life will no longer be the same without her.

The night before I was to return to work I watched a Cuba Gooding, Jr. movie titled "Hardwired". I haven't watched a movie in was has felt like years. I purchased it some time back for my husband and son never ever intending on watching it myself. Luke Gibson, Gooding's character, had been "hardwired" with a computer chip in his brain that essentially controlled him. A marginalized rebel group dissatisfied with these human experiments and the turn in society hacked his cerebral-embedded computer chip in an attempt to override it, connect with his higher suppressed consciousness, and save his life. My son recommended it knowing that I am a Matrix fan I suppose.

Well, it was not Matrix-level stuff per se, but it provided me with one important observation. The hacker rebel group used signs and messages to communicate with Gibson and direct him to safety while in difficult situations. All he had to do was look up and the message would appear. "Turn left." "Go straight." "This person means you harm." Wouldn't that be wonderful if we all experienced that level of guidance each time we encountered trouble? Aw, we could just breeze through life.

I am not certain how this move is going to work out, but I know that it has to be done. I feel as though our time here is over. Looking back, I do not believe that Indiana was the best move for us but I do believe that I was just postponing the inevitable.

This experience has me feeling more appreciative of my unborn child's life. From the moment that I felt as though it was in danger, all I felt was an incredible sense of loss. I know my feelings have been ambivalent, but I also recognize the normalcy in that. But the sense of loss comes from knowing that this is my last child no matter what and the grim outlook of a lifetime of mourning and constant wondering: "My baby would've been six years old around this time," just strikes me as absolutely awful.

I feel as though my child's spirit is determined to get into this world and reunite with us. I also feel that he has an important purpose in life. "This is the next President of the Republic of Mali," I tell my husband all the time. We just have to keep his little butt in the oven for the next three months. When the contractions first began, besides pain, my overwhelming emotion was anger. Anger at my husband and feeling as though if things had gone the way they were supposed to, with a manageable level of stress, then I would not be in this situation and my baby's life in jeopardy. I have to work hard to talk myself out of these private thoughts and convince myself that he has done the best he can. My higher self tells me so. We are not the only family in America with dad laid off. Surely, there must be others? My mother, a clinical social worker, reminds me every time we speak not to play the blame game. "This is why marriages do not last after the death of a child," reminding me of what happened to close relatives.

Even still no one can convince me otherwise that these issues were not brought on by chronic stress, economic pressures, and constant worry. Now that we have that established, my job now is to get specialized medical help, and live as peacefully as I can these last three months of my pregnancy. I am praying this is possible.

A dear friend of mine wants my daughter and I to come to her house and relax until the birth. She says that she cannot accommodate the entire family. I am grateful for the invite, but I cannot just leave my son and husband and reunite with them after the baby's birth. I think that it was meant to be a nice, wonderful sincere offer but it feels simultaneously destructive. Despite our current situation, we need one another. Since meeting, we have never been apart any significant period of time (a week or so maximum).

Syed has been so upset that he literally has not known what to do with himself nor his emotions. He spent the first few nights last week begging me to call the ambulance. We live right next door to a massive medical complex. I reassured him that we could arrive faster in our own car. In his culture, they have a saying that a pregnant woman has one foot planted in the grave and one foot planted on the earth. I do not like that saying, but it has merit if you consider that one out of four Malian women die in childbirth. So, he called everyone he knows to explain the situation and solicited their prayers.


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