"The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight."
Endless preparations completed or left undone – all the same now. The baby is here. And it is not what was expected – as if anything could have prepared us. It seemed idyllic; the birth-plan drawn out. The only thing drawn out were the pangs. The pains. At the end of it, there is crying. Hard to tell whose. Brand new lungs and ones filled with the smoke of a thousand cook-fires drawing breath and yelling it out.
Exhaustion and enchantment mingle and run down our faces. Empty arms filled with wiggly ones – there seems to be only repose or thrashing, no in between. And the real is more than the imagined. More wonderful. More shocking. Fluids ooze and blood flows. The craved-rest is fitful. Is he ok? Am I ok? Are we ok? Yes. And no. Those questions and answers will come again, intermittently and alternately coupled, for the rest of time. For now, we are terrified and so in love our hearts cannot take it all in. We would explode if we could. So we pick apart bits and ponder them. This is our new life work.
For today, it is enough that the baby is here. The blessed interruption of sleep has begun. The gloom glory of days ahead are looming and beckoning. Celebration sits appropriately with angst. And for today at least, we are ok. Selah.
Comments