During my sixth month of pregnancy, an ultrasound showed Dobbes to have an abnormality of the heart: a mirror image right aortic arch. The cardiologist was concerned that the veins would form a ring around his trachea and, given time, may choke his windpipe.

Such news for a mother indeed.

It did not help that the sonographer running the tests was a curt, tactless woman from mainland China who displayed all the stereotypes of her people. She rudely told me in the middle of the examination that my baby's veins were "not forming properly" (as if I somehow caused it to happen on purpose) and even complained when Dobbes refused to turn into a convenient position for her and kept hiding his heart with his hands (like, can you blame him, with her attitude?)

I chose not to take a recommended amniocentesis to ascertain if Dobbes had other chromosomic abnormalities yet undiscovered. What use would that have been? I was sixth months along already and even from the beginning, there was nothing on earth that would stop me from wanting to have him in my life.

But it did not make the knowledge of his heart condition any easier for me to accept. The only way I managed to get through the following months was to not invest energy into negative thoughts. I was aware that nothing could be done before he was born and also at that point in time he was still forming and growing. Even the cardiologist admitted that there was nothing wrong with the way his heart was functioning.

But it was a different story after he was born and we had to revisit the cardiologist three days ago. I was totally unprepared for the level of anxiety, fear and helplessness I felt when I saw little Dobbes lying on the huge white hospital bed, being prodded in the flesh by the sonographer and cardiologist. There was no escaping this time; my uterus no longer provided him the hiding place he wanted.

That was when it struck me that there would never again be a time like those magical ten months when I was all that my little white dot needed to feel safe. Conversely, I am now powerless to protect him.

Even if the monitoring eventually shows his condition to be safe or if he recovers from any surgery needed, there would always be something in this big bad world for me to worry about for my son. From diaper rash and baby acne to skinned knees, bullies, unrequited love and job politics, Dobbes may either suffer or pull through any one of these or more.

While all my life, I have always been very certain that this is what I ultimately want -- to be happily married to the love of my life with kids in tow -- nothing has quite prepared me for the possibility of experiencing love this deep, when hurt is felt most intensely when the one you love is in pain.

Maybe this is something that only Mothers ever feel. I only know that when Dobbes is peacefully asleep and cooing in his cot, I drink in the sight of this greedily, vowing that I'd throw myself in front of a speeding bus if it can guarantee his health, safety and well-being.

Yummy Mummies

In the current (Dec 2008) issue of Motherhood magazine. Someday Dobbes, you'll see this and know that your Momma was proud of her bump.