Being born

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Over the last week, I was greatly honored to be part of the birth journeys of 3 babies and mothers. Here are some thoughts on the journeys of those babes.

Who would be born if they had a choice? Inside the womb is a soft, faraway, mother's voice. Warm waters surrounding the body completely, scented of the person who carries you. Food and oxygen sources connected to the belly, channeling in all that is needed for life to develop for this short pregnant and growing season. The sound of a rhythmically beating heart above. Whimsical, high-pitched digestive noises. How does breathing sound from within? Varying rhythms of air coming in, out, in, out. Strange and musical. Mysterious. Filtered sunlight beaming in, warming up the joint... preparing, perhaps, little eyes for light outside the womb.

We are born into bright lights... cold rooms (compared to the warm womb) ... naked. Exposed. So very vulnerable. Hardly able to express much except through cries and whimpers. A great, new journey begins. How does air feel on untouched skin for the first time? To open your mouth and not get a gulp full of fluid, but strange, thin atmosphere instead. All that is new, accosting the senses. The touch of someone else's skin against you, for the very first time. Is that touch gentle or rough? Is it a hand which has touched and held thousands of babies... or the trembling hands not used to the delicately tiny size of a newborn? Wet tears, rolling down a newly dried cheek. Something other than a thumb or finger touching the sensitive mouth and the lips... a hand stroking your head.

After the masterpiece is finished, it must be introduced to the world. At birth, we are unveiled; uncovered. Taken almost completely out of our elements... to learn a strange, new, mostly unfamiliar one. Will the unveiling be beheld through loving eyes and protective hands? We are never gauranteed this at birth or at any change in life. Sometimes others care deeply. Sometimes no one but the Father sees the pain of our exposure and changes; our grief. Sometimes people don't hear our cries and see our tears for what they are. Some of us learn to stop crying and others learn to cry more.

Our births are only the first of many unveilings, exposures, and major changes which we will inevitably be faced with as humans for the rest of our lives.

Realizing that this major first change in life must be so significant to a person (how could it not be?), even though it is not normally remembered, makes me want to go back to when my daughters were born and touch them more; feed them more just for the sake of comfort; smile more; talk more; encourage more; whisper more wisdom into their little lives...

But, alas, I can only do those things today, with the people I have in my life now. I blinked twice, it seemed, and my babies are gone... have given way to a pre-teen and a young lady. Their lives move on... even when I'm not looking intently. That is why my focus is so important... focus, and being present emotionally and available for the little callings God puts in my life every day. It is in this way that I have learned honor my God's purpose in their lives, my life, and the lives of those around me.