Thoughts for Liz and John Upon Henry’s Pending Arrival

  

First, release.     A new day is dawning for which you are more prepared than you can imagine, even on the first day.  Whatever you thought was going to happen is best released and the moment embraced.  There is so much magic to come that words do not properly express the full range of joy and tears, nor experience set the stage.  Each day, from the first to each that follow, we have learned to accept how much we fear we need to know and how much just comes naturally to us when the challenge arrives.  For a brief time after Lia arrived we referred to our lives as before Lia and after Lia.  Now, family is the only life we know or care to refer to with any degree of certainty.

 

Second, relax.    You both will do fine and progress quickly, without hesitation, as each day passes.  It is nature’s way that parents learn what to do with distinction with or without formal instruction.  We remember when Lia was first given to us with a bag of initial supplies that we were not sure what she ate, when she ate, when she slept, when she woke, when she bathed, how to dress her, when to change her, or when to just say, “hello”.  We found that when Lia needed anything she was not shy about telling us in a new language we learned in a matter of days.  Those cries speak with specific definition and cannot be denied.  Within a week we were dancing to Lia’s tune and became masters of every step.   “I love you” became our constant companion.

 

Third, enjoy the new you.    What was is as.  What is embodies a moment married to those futures of unlimited horizons, refreshed new each day.  Lia presents so many possibilities.  She insists that we always look forward from a reference of where we are standing, but not for long.  We must prepare, are prepared, she will not wait.  As an impatient child of her own time her needs grow, her rewards are many.  We are made better for it, always.  We rise each day renewed.  Often before we thought we were ready to begin.

 

 

So,

little one

 

having stirred from your darkness

 

Awake

 

to pull back the remaining veil of its shadow

 

and gaze into your sunrise

 

brightly