Labor

I've given birth to four children. When I say that my latest endeavor is much like the process of bringing a child into the world, I know what I'm talking about.

From the first hint of her existence, I thrilled with curious anticipation. As she formed within my mind, I loved her. I marveled as she took shape, worried over her development, and anguished over her deformities. I became sullen, distracted, and more or less cranky when something was wrong with her. There were days when all I could think about and all I could talk about was... her. Other times, I could not speak of her at all, for fear that she would never fully develop.

I have labored these last two months and two days, through late nights and distracted days, to ensure that she is complete and beautiful and lovely, that she lacks nothing and offers much, that in the end, she will give glory to the Author and Perfecter of my faith.

Now at last, I hold her in my hands - warm and fresh and waiting to meet the world. I am both eager and terrified to think what her future might hold. Surely, the world will tear her apart. Surely, I will grieve. Surely, I will inflict pain upon her that she may become a more worthy creation. Perhaps she will be embraced, loved, cherished. I have no guarantee of her happy future, but must place her in the hands of ones more skilled than myself, hoping that someone will love her as I do and raise her to stand on her own out in the big, bad world.

A few brave souls, most notably my Patient and Beloved Husband and my Wise and Wonderful Sister, bore with me through it all. Without their understanding and forgiveness, she could not have been born at all.

And so I present my darling Grit...

Now to begin the arduous task of finding her a publisher.

Impossibilities

Several winters ago, we received impossible news. The child in my womb was...  a girl! Geoff had told me from the very beginning that girls simply do not sprout from his genes. Having produced two darling lads, I had begun to believe him. I had also begun to feel a little defensive of my boys when people told me I needed to "try again for a girl."

So the news that "a girl" was just what we were having came as a shock. It just didn't seem possible!  I adjusted, however, and found myself, two weeks after Elisabeth's birth, marveling at how painfully adorable my daughter was in her first pink outfit, cute little yarn hat and all. I remember thinking how silly it was of me to have waited so long to put her in pink (she wore plenty of girl outfits, just not pink ones!) when pink looked so stinking good on her.  I can't track down the picture right now, but trust me, she was breathtakingly beautiful all wrapped up in pinkness.



 All of my reservations about pink dissipated in that moment, and I have never looked back. Our girl is free to be as girly as she wants...

...or doesn't want to be.

It no longer seems to me impossible, or even improbable, that Geoff and I produced a girl. What seems impossible is the notion that we might never have welcomed this girl into our family, that we might never have known her ups and downs, that we might never have laughed at her silliness, wiped away her tears, loved her and enjoyed her love.

She has enriched our family beyond measure. When I think now of what is possible or not, it seems impossible that we have been so richly blessed, not just with three marvelous sons but also with one amazing daughter. Impossible too, that our daughter is turning five already.

Happy birthday, Elisabeth!