“Every time I look at the photograph of us in the delivery room–our eyes closed, lids swollen, faces pale and dreamlike–I think of survival and yes relief, but also a certain sadness. How terrified you must have been, jolted loose from your cave of water and my heartbeat, then pumped and squeezed roughly along by hard, rubber-like muscles. And then for you to emerge bloody and blue with the cord around your neck, the doctors hurrying to free you, the shock of light, the distress of your body being pulled every which-way. I wanted you on my belly…
It will be days, no, a lifetime before the sense of awe leaves me, for your birth, my son, is somehow connected to the heart of the universe where pain has presence because of divine decree. Jesus, Lamb of God, was torn by wolves of pain as we were, but his was unto death and more terrible because he took our sins upon himself. That was so you could have eternal life. There is meaning in our suffering, for we tasted in some way I cannot explain, the Lord himself. It is so for every child and his mother…
I love your hands, cloud puffs, pillows. Soft or not, the hands are bossy, going for my hair, nose, ribbon on my blouse–anything they desire the hands grab, to go of course into the mouth with its voracious gums.
There are also your cheeks, soft as dumplings, dimpling when you laugh. I love your laugh, proceeding first from the eyes, then spreading to your mouth in a grin that seems as big as you are–and on to the belly that shakes as you laugh, fat puppy’s belly, plush toy, marshmallow boy…”
~from “Sketches of Home” by Suzanne Clark, pp.43, 44, 45~
It’s true. That excerpt above pretty much nails it on the head.
Our sweet boy, whom Gabriel calls Asher-boy and we often refer to simply as “the happy boy” (he lives up to his name!), has been our arms for half a year now. Wow. Our hearts are full.
For the first time, not long ago I was told (much to my surprise, I might add) “two little boys? you’ve got your hands full.” I brushed my surprise away, smiled, and said, “believe me when I say that I could not be more thankful or blessed to have these boys filling my hands.” Beaming and nearly brimming with tears, I kept walking through the grocery store.
I feel that, similar to Mary, I too am most blessed among women. Perhaps every mama feels this way. 🙂
Asher is 14 pounds of contentment, joy, rest, and determination all rolled into one slobbery, sweet, happy bundle of wiggly, squealy bliss. He lights up my world. He wins over everyone who sees him. And I realize that I don’t just have an apple of my eye ~ I have a whole tree of apples in there.
Amen.
