Over a Few Nights. Part 2.

On Wednesday April 22nd, I figured we should probably take some more-posed pictures. Why not, right? It had been on my to do list, but had dropped in priority as the effort to make oneself presentable in this state of largeness is a considerable one. I'm really glad the effort was made now, as I will cherish these moments captured of me with these two (three) loveys.  

And only SIX days later...the great and glorious meeting! To be part of this miracle is quite a privilege. The below moments were so different than 5 years ago when little 2yr old Michaela came to meet Sophie as a newborn. There was so much more to talk about and so much genuine care for me! Michaela had been my dedicated cheerleader in the final weeks of pregnancy. She was constantly writing me little notes of encouragement and so to have her come in the room, gaze at the baby and then look me in the face and say, "How did IT go?" --the big IT, this birth-thing that you have been talking and talking and talking about-- well, it was piercingly dear. I unfortunately don't remember much from the rest of the time. It was all sweet and excited and I heard about the sleepover they'd had with their dear friends while I was in labor. Really they just wanted to hold that little bundle of tiny breathing pink warmth. Their sister. Caroline. And they did.

We went to the library today and then to pick the girls up some lunch to eat in the car. When we got to Panera, Caroline was all done with the squashed carseat position she'd been in, so I just held her while we ordered a sandwich. One of the ladies behind the counter started glowing at the sight of our baby and asked simply, "Is she new?" Usually people ask, How old? or just say softly under their breath, A newborn. But that question, Is She New? I loved it. Yes, she is new. New to it all. Light and smell and breathing and eating and thousands of new touches on her skin. Every position she's in, every outfit she wears, every glint of sun and drop of rain, everything is a first. What a wonder to think about the love-shock it is to enter this world from a womb. No wonder there are tears, though, for the shock certainly outweighs the ability to know the love. 

It has rained here for the past two days. Soaking steady rain that's washed the air. And the crepe myrtle tree that I look at from my bedroom window is beginning to bloom. There is much to be grateful for. 

And I guess I cornered myself into at least one more post in this "series" since it has the word Few and a few is more than two. So I'll be back tomorrow. Is this a new record? :-)