To Hold Another New One

She’s here.

The second one of the next generation. A great-grand.

At the hospital the evening after her birth, I receive her into my arms from her father. He is the first one I received of his generation. Firstborn of my firstborn.

She squirms as if to acknowledge I am neither mother nor father. So begin my efforts to erase the unfamiliarity.

I speak the words I’ve spoken to all new ones after her father–since I realized these first conversations are important. They set the tone for all that follows.

“Jesus loves you. Grandma loves you. You have a wonderful mommy and daddy.”

Her face is that of her grandmother–her Mimi–my daughter. This new one’s hair is darker than her sister’s–like an uncle’s–her father’s brother–like her Mimi’s. There is no other feeling to rival touching that soft hair.

I look around the room where she will stay for the next few days with her parents. The clear bassinet holds a pink knitted hat. My mind works to recall details from those days when I was a new mother–pieces that come in snapshots I’ve carried in my mind over the years.

This one’s parents are making their own mental snapshots.

We worried about her coming. A potential complication required close monitoring. We prayed. Others joined us in prayer.

But the coming was simple. Fast. She would come on her own, not via surgery as we had thought would happen. It seems she has her own mind already.

Mark Twain said, “The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”

But there is no one moment on one day that holds our purpose. We carry purpose with us every day. Why she has come to us will unfold over the years in multiple ways–in ways we can’t pin down to one moment. In ways we will never fully fathom.

Today she is here for us to hold and celebrate. To remind us that time passes quickly between that first moment holding a newborn and the others that follow.

The before and after and the moments between each new coming contain their own purposes. Their own wonder. Their own great times of struggle and triumph, fear and wonder. Prayers of pleading and prayers of gratitude and joy.

Welcome to this journey we call life, little one. We are so happy to have you on the path with us.

Photo Credit: Unsplash

Nancy E. Head’s Restoring the Shattered is out in paperback! Get your copy here!

Permissions: You are permitted and encouraged to reproduce and distribute this material in any format provided that you do not alter the wording in any way, do not charge a fee beyond the cost of reproduction, and you credit the author.

Disclosure of Material Connection:  I have not received any compensation for writing this post. I have no material connection to the entities I have mentioned. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”