Babies

Just got back from the hospital, from visiting a friend who just had a baby boy yesterday. He is so small, so tiny, so sweet. He was crying, but then quickly fell off to sleep with a bit of swaddling and some swing-hop-swaying action from his aunt Jen. I guess I still have the knack for it.

I was surprised, even though I still consider my own daughter 'new' enough, at how small newborns are and how light they are to hold. I don't know how to explain how it made me feel... wistful... but not sad... pensive... nostalgic... To the surface come so many memories of becoming a mother for the first time, then the second time. It's hard, this baby thing. And the sleepless nights. But now I know that the difficult times don't last forever...

Ozayr's Swedish aunt once told me, completely out of the blue, "these are the best years of your life, when your kids are young, like this."

I was struggling down her driveway with a diaper bag hanging off one arm and a baby on my other hip, steering Maymuna to the car as I went. She had called to me from her front door. An after-thought I guess, an observation that couldn't be contained. I turned around and looked at her. She's right.

I am jealous of my friend, in a way, a gentle way. She's just beginning on this journey, those "best" years. So many of them have slipped past me already.

And my heart breaks for another friend, one who lost her little boy who was supposed to be here this summer, with us. I can't help but think of them now, whenever I see a baby. You have not truly contemplated faith, nor strength of character, until you have witnessed loss of this magnitude. They have taught me far more than I ever expected. For what it is worth, I hope you knew when you stood on that hill alone, when your family followed you, that flock of unruly children: you are loved.