We’re parents! Oh, my sweet Lord, we are PARENTS!
Our amazing adventure began in January. Our darling daughter was two weeks overdue and finally arrived after a long day that can only be described as the pu-pu platter of modern labor and delivery methods. Their were skewers. The were unrecognizeable crunchy bits. And yes, their were flames.
We embraced our 9 1/2 pound baby and our first string of all-nighters with elation and dread.
Fellow parents warned us about the pecularities and preferences of the highly unpredictable infant. Intellectually, we understood the highs and hardships. But parenting, like gardening, is an emotional “knowing,” born from physical exertion and exhaustion. You feel the labor in your bones. It reshapes your body, the landscape forever changed.
When a tiny smile lights up a tiny pink face for the first time, your heart immediately swells with joy. It swiftly expands against your lungs — growing bigger and bigger, shinning brighter and brighter — a small super nova threatening to explode through your chest cavity. Gasping for breath, you say a prayer for these little miracles, as beautiful as the first crocus of spring and sweet as the first strawberry of summer, “Yes. Oh, yes. Please, again.”