twenty-seven years ago this morning, my first baby pushed her way into the world. she was tiny - 5 lbs, 10 ozs, 19.5 inches long. she had a head of silky dark hair - just like baby jake - and when the midwife put her on my belly, wet and slimy, the cord still pulsing blue, i remember how she curled and mewed like a kitten. her apgar score at one minute was 7, at two minutes, 9.5. it was a glowing, golden october morning. i remember thinking how amazing it was that one minute there were three people in the room, and the next there were four.
now my baby stands beside me on the same side of the Great Divide. already she knows that milky mazey besottedness, that fierce and adoring love of Creator for the Created. i remember gazing at her as she nestled against my breast, scrawny as a plucked chicken, all sharp limbs and great big eyes. i see the look on her own face, as she cradles baby jake.
when he was three days old, she said to me, he's so cute i dont' want to put him down... i just want to keep holding him... is that bad? ... of course it isn't bad, i said, until you decide you need to do something else and he doesn't understand what it is or why.
that's what i said to her.
but another part of me, the silent part said... it doesn't matter whether you hold him or not, honey... there's a part of you that's never going to let go.
happy birthday, katie liz... from the mommy who loves you the way you love baby jake.
and furthermore, the war must end. blessed be.