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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Week(s) (02/10/11)

TITLE: Unraveled Knitting
By Emily Gibson
02/16/11


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A follicle swells, plumping with hormonal encouragement, breaks free of the sac surrounding it and begins to float toward the safe grasp of finger-like fimbriae. It is swept up inside the tube, drifting purposefully along the slickened lining of the fallopian tube. Within twenty four hours, it is met by an enthusiastic escort of thousands of determined sperm, all having made the long trek just for this rendezvous.

One is chosen and the egg transforms instantly from oocyte to zygote: two have become one. There is, and will be, no other like that one.

He will continue to drift through the tube over the next several days, cleaving from simple cell to more complex and by the fifth day becomes a blastocyst readying to bed down and feast in the lush comfort of the endometrial lining by the end of the first week. He has a great deal of growing to do.

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The hope each month is huge with potential. With each ovulation comes anticipation, with each period comes crushing disappointment. At one week, it is possible to know, with a simple test, if a conceptus exists, microscopic and fragile, but already changing the hostís hormonal environment in profound ways. At one week, before a period is even missed, it is possible to know a new life exists. The test is run, the dip shows a positive line, and there is jubilation and thanksgiving.
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The fear is huge with dread and misgiving. With each ovulation comes the potential for poor decision making, and with each period comes immense relief. A pill is taken by the fifth day, as the complex cellular organization of the blastocyst continues to float unmoored, and the hormonal blast rapidly ripens the endometrial lining and renders it inhospitable. He bumps along, looking for a receptive spot to latch on and burrow but nothing will hold on tight. He is lost, unfed, unwanted, unknown.
*****************************

All this can happen within a week.

All this can take place in private moments of anxious longing and overwhelming worry.

All this can be a secret, hidden from view, not to be revealed.

Or shouted from the rooftops.

There are no secrets from God, the knitter of earthly bodies that house our souls. He recognizes us from the very beginning, even when we have been unraveled.

He will call us back someday.


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This article has been read 271 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Anita van der Elst02/17/11
Love the title! Writing is superb. I like how you contrast reactions to what happens in one week.
Joanne Sher 02/22/11
This is FABULOUS, and totally out of the box - not to mention beautifully crafted. So creative.
Bonnie Bowden02/23/11
Very thought provoking piece. I really liked the knitting analogy.
Shann Hall-LochmannVanBennekom 02/24/11
Congratulations for placing in the top 15 of Masters and the top 30 overall!