The doctor said my baby was fine — but I knew something was very wrong
As told to Musia Slavin
I stood in the living room of my Upstate New York apartment, my children scattered around the room in varying states of mess and fun. I side-stepped the blocks and reached for my siddur on the shelf.
Three steps back. I tried my best to tune out the noise around me as I davened for the year to come. I thought about my six children, the pride and joy of my life, and the one resting within me, yet to join us in This World. Hashem, please bentsh us all with koach, with parnassah, with gezunt. Three steps forward.
And the world around me came back into view.
“It’s a boy,” the doctor announced above the shrill sound of my baby’s cry. A healthy seven pounds, eleven ounces. Alert, adorable.
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