I love you because God gave you to me. The enormity of your
eternal soul gets to me sometimes, it seems too big to handle. Not
overwhelmingly big, but humbling big. Humbling because, for this small moment
in time, God has asked me to care for you.
This life I never wanted, but said yes because I felt the
pull of God. It’s a vocation fulfilled. It’s everything I was afraid of,
everything I was running away from, but it fits and is so right.
We didn’t have an easy start you and I, and we were
separated for quite some time. When the nurses brought you over I looked at
your pale little body and then smiled at the camera for our first photo. I didn’t
think you were real at first so looking at you was too hard, so I looked at the
camera. And then I was alone.
I was wheeled into recovery, and was left to wonder about
you. Sure nurses came in and out, Maj J stopped in at one point, but really I
was left to wonder about you. What you were doing, how you were, what you
looked like. I don’t remember praying, but I remember thinking that God was
here, and He knew my heart. The words I could not pray were being heard. No
longer inside of me, I knew you were your own person now. I want so badly the strength to be the person God wants me to be for you.
You were so very gentle with my body, and I thank you for
that. I felt you move but they were always graceful movements, no hard kicks or
jabs in the ribs. You were there, you were gentle. Even now, you do not ask for
much.
I frequently look over to make sure you’re still breathing.
You little life next to me makes me feel a heavy sense of responsibility, a
responsibility I feel neither worthy of nor ready for. I want to do everything
right and it drives me nuts that I know I won’t. I am going to screw up, and I
pray I don’t hurt you in the process. I know I will, I know I am not perfect. I
know I will hurt you, physically, spiritually, and mentally. It’s how it goes,
it’s what being a parent is all about. I am not going to do everything right. You’re
my first, so you’re kind of the experiment. I get the privilege to see you, to
see who I am in you.
I don’t know when I’ll stop being nervous something bad is
going to happen to you (I’ll possibly never stop being nervous). Some days I’m
afraid I’ll wake up and it was all just a dream, that you somehow won’t be
here, or that somehow you’re not mine.
You've changed me forever. In a very scary and thrilling way
I will never be the same. In what ways I won’t be the same, I don’t know yet.
But your little life next to me holds promise beyond measure. You are a gift,
and I will spend my whole life letting you know what a gift you are.
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go, my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)
~EE Cummings
