Shehecheyanu is the brachah on fresh chances. At the brink of a new year, we look back with gratitude over what we’ve achieved, and look forward to possibilities and potential ahead
Elana Moskowitz
Moskowitz children are notoriously late walkers. While their contemporaries swagger proudly across the living room like little drunken sailors, my offspring are considering crawling.
Over the years I’ve learned to relax when their first birthday passes without monumental gross motor achievements; instead, I enjoy the reprieve late walking affords (think safe kitchen cabinets and drawers). At least until I was expecting Meir.
As the ultrasound screen glows in a shadowy exam room, I marvel at the delicate threadlike fingers (“count them, five!”) and gape at the pulsing contours of a beating heart (“do you see all four chambers?”). Scans from previous pregnancies have honed my ability to recognize the fuzzy image on the screen of this tightly curled creature, and I admire the myriad components of a wondrously evolving being.
At some point in his running commentary, the doctor nimbly weaves a question: “So, do you have any orthopedic problems in your family?”
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