CJ (I confess her name choice, although we do love it in its own right, was tipped slightly ahead of the others on our list because we could call her "CJ") was born peacefully, rightly, at home. My only babe not to be born into my actual hands because, as I somewhat suspected she would be, she was tangled quite a bit in her umbilical cord. No distress. She came free of the tangle quite easily. But before she was even in my hands BC, who had been lurking in the hallway, not quite able to come into the room where I was birthing, was asking "is it a boy or a girl??" He had been longing for a sister. He had told me from the moment we told him we were having a third child that he knew it was a girl. He knew he was going to have a sister. And he was right. He has a sister. AL has a sister. My husband and I have a daughter.
I have a daughter. And all I can think to myself, over and over on these long newborn nights, are the opening words of the Sarah Kay poem B, which says, If I should have a daughter...
If I should have a daughter... And so my own "if" shall begin.
Welcome to the world, CJ. You are already loved so very much.
~Mama
