There are many magical days in a woman’s life. There are graduations, falling in love, engagements, and weddings but the most magical of all is the day of the birth of our first child.
Today is the celebration of that day in my life 40 years ago and there isn’t much about the day I don’t remember. I’ll spare you the details of labour and rushing to the hospital. They have their own sweetness even in pain but there is no magic on earth that compares with the first gaze into the eyes of a child who by some miracle came through a body into your arms. The fingers and toes are perfect. The noises are delightful. The smells are heavenly.
I think, for most women, that moment of first connections with our child is similar to the moment the Grinch discovered the meaning of Christmas. Our hearts grow four sizes that day and if it weren’t for our skin they would have popped right out of our chests. We could never have fathomed such love until that moment.
Two years after the birth of my first I recall discussing with someone that I was afraid I might not be able to love my second child, then on the way, as much as the first. To my pleasure I discovered a few weeks later that my heart just kept growing in direct proportion to the number of children. There was an equally sized space for the second and third, though each space was preciously unique.
Now, 40 years later, the feeling has not changed. The heart has gone through some tough times and there have been harsh words and harsh realities which have challenged and changed us but the love has never changed. It is a gift from the Divine One which gives us a glimpse of the love S/He has for us. It is gift without measure and without end.
Note: I am aware that for many women the birth of a child is a very painful memory when there are difficulties and losses. It is my prayer that you can find joy even through the trials and that you will always know your love is perfect even if the situation is not.