Travis, the kids and I took a pizza to our friends in the hospital yesterday. Friends who just had their first baby. I take Dominos at times like these because a) the parents are usually sick of hospital food and starving for greasy carbs and b) I can’t cook so I’m doing them a service by letting someone else do it. The kids were instructed to be quiet, keep their hands to themselves and to not touch the baby. They did well.
Unrelated to this post but here’s what we look like this morning.
The electricity in that room was palpable.
The newborn was special, yes…but I walked away not really knowing what she looked like. All I could remember were the proud glances passed between the new parents.
It was as if I’d hopped in a time machine and traveled back to Erlanger Hospital where newborn Henry slept beside me and Travis stood over him, beaming with pride. Profound things happen when a couple becomes parents for the first time. If their love was at a level 8, it can quickly rise to an 11 the day that child is born. Consequent births are special but that first time…there’s nothing quite like it.
You go from not knowing to KNOWING what all those advice people were blabbing about during the 9 months of pregnancy.
You do it TOGETHER. You grow together. The husband coaches and supports (his natural role) and the wife births and bonds (her natural role). Two people high on life, having just lived out their purpose with the reward of a new life….it’s almost too much.
And today my ovaries ache.