After a long drumroll, our daughter finally joined us Tuesday April 15th at a beautiful 8 lbs 13 ounces. I have never prayed so hard or hurt so much or been so happy, EVER, let alone all in the same day. Husband talked me through the whole thing and the hippie in me is delighted that everything went just as we hoped it would.
As I figure out life with a new little person, what one writer has termed "National Geographic crotch," enormous bricks for boobs and with two more law school finals ahead of me, I will have to delay blogging about the most amazing day of my life for a while. This poem is hanging in our baby's room and it captures what we're feeling, and it's my blog and I can cheese if I want to. She is so awesome I could explode.
by Kahlil Gibran
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.