At 1:50 am on July 15, after 38 weeks, 5 days and 20 hours of anticipation, I met my daughter.
I am one of the lucky ones who knew from the second I saw her face that we belonged to each other. No book or conversation or class can prepare for you for the depth and breadth of that moment–when your life closes in from all angles to this one point of focus. Your breath is linked to her breath, your heartbeat to her heartbeat, your happiness to her happiness.
I saw Love when I saw her. When I held her. When my husband gazed at her. When she gasped deep and wailed from her tiny lungs for the first time.
She carried a fullness, a passionate overflow of peace into my heart with one simple look. And every corner that held worries or fears about her place in my world emptied into bliss.
On an early summer morning, before the sun had time to shine, with pouty lips, puffy cheeks and a head of wavy dark hair, my baby girl taught me where the truest beauty in this life rests.
In a father’s proud eyes that follow his child’s every move while holding his wife’s hand ever tighter.
In grandmothers’ beaming faces as they count just the right number of fingers and toes.
In a grandfather’s steady hand as he comforts an exhausted daughter.
In a family that wages bets on being deemed the favorite.
In friends who share tears at the weight of your joy.
In the soul of a girl who looks into a baby’s rounded face and knows
she is a mother.