Vulnerable to the World

Carrying a fetus that is so vulnerable to the compounds and traumas of the world requires great care and caution on my part. I've had many moments in the past few months where I'm more thoughtful than ever about the chemicals I put on my body, foods and materials I put into my mouth (ever ate a meal with a plastic fork where you tried to touch the fork as little as possible?), and the gases in the air. Since Little is so little, and so early in his/her development, these environmental toxins and dangers can have a great effect on his/her wellbeing...for a long time to come. It's like the effect of lead on children--neurological development is happening so the impacts of lead poisoning are even more harmful than they are on adults. Exposure to secondhand smoke is the same--physical development is ongoing and children breathe more than adults do so they are even more vulnerable.

In any case, there was a huge factory fire just a couple blocks from my home on my street this week. The fire raged for days, and summoned firefighters from all of the city's stations. It was a real 7-alarm kicker. I went outside out of curiosity to see the action, but retreated after just a few minutes to minimize my exposure. I couldn't help but stare though at all of my neighbors who carted their infants and toddlers out to watch the flames burn. I was worried about the fear this might cause them, but even more so about the kind of damage they might sustain, temporary or long-term, from inhaling the smoke and all of the associated chemicals flying into the air from the burning insides of the factory.

I also had a great, sad scare a few days ago. The morning after the fire, I rode my bike to work with Lauren. We parted at 4th and Arch toward our respective offices. As I turned down Spruce Street, I was thrilled to see that it had been re-paved but unhappy to notice that the lanes (including the bike lane) had not been repainted. Well, I had reason to worry. A few blocks later, a car made a last minute turn right in front of my bike (no turn signal of course). I tried to squeeze the brakes but toppled over on my bike regardless. The car didn't stop. No surprise. When I'm biking, all cars are the enemy. I wasn't seriously hurt, just scraped up and sore ankles. But I was more mentally harmed. I got so scared. When I was moving through the air off of the bike, I tried to quickly think about how I could fall to minimize harm to the baby. I kept my abdomen pulled in and thrust out my hands and feet first. When I got up, I just cried. I pushed my bike into the street and weeped. Several people saw it, and two of them stopped to ask if I was okay. I was fine, just sad and scared. A woman pulled my bike out of the street and put it next to me. I just stood there on the sidewalk and cried. I felt so sad that I made Little so vulnerable, and so angry that a driver would perpetrate it all. One of the onlookers was a mother with a stroller packed with two young children. She's the only person I made eye contact with--like she might understand why I'd cry after what was, overall, a minor fall with no real physical harm. Anyway, I weeped my way to work. It was all very scary. I know everyone will expect me to not ride anymore during my pregnancy, but I'm still undetermined. Riding my bike to work is an important part of my exercise routine and it makes the day feel much better. But now it will be more scary, and Little is so vulnerable to the world.