Amazing Love

One of my closest friends, Charla, gave birth to a beautiful son on Monday night. Christopher is amazing....perfect. Almost unbelievably so. Funny thing about the situation is that, until about 9 months ago, Charla rested in the absolute that she would NEVER want to have a baby. She and her husband, Vince, were content with their life together, and felt that their two doggies were all they would ever need to fulfill their parenting desires. But something unexpectedly stirred their hearts, and they decided they would give it a try. Much to their surprise, the baby had already pitched his tent....a couple of weeks before they made their decision. Could’ve been a subconscious biological signal that prompted Charla’s longing for a child so suddenly. I happen to believe it was much more than biology, but to pursue that tangent would greatly lengthen this entry. Besides, I'm sure I'll end up pursuing others before I'm done.

Last night I saw Charla the happiest I’ve seen her in our 8 year friendship. To look at her, you would never have guessed that she ever felt unprepared or unqualified for her upcoming role as a mother. I walked into the hospital room and I could literally feel the love that had come into existence there. Like an invisible incense, it took my breath away, curling and wrapping its trail around me as I entered. Obviously, I’ve known many new mothers, and I’ve held quite a few newborns in their first days; but the experience never stales; never appears unimpressive; never seems prosaic. Hundreds of thousands of babies are born every day in every corner of the planet. The melancholic reality is that not every child is born into love. There are countless numbers of shiny white hospital rooms, meager lean-tos, and darkened back-alleys that breathe no aroma of piety or astonishment (from human presence, that is) when a novel soul is born in its parameters. But, for my own purpose, I’ll allow myself to assume that, statistically, most new mothers love their own flesh and blood.

Its that kind of love, exactly, that blows my mind. Most anyone who knows me well knows that I’m not one of "those" girls who goes crazy over babies. I don’t feel the need to tickle every toddler or kiss the head of every infant I see at a grocery store or restaurant. If I have a biological clock, it’s not ticking. Its digital reading flashes "No Time Soon" in blinding red. No one should worry....I’m not announcing that I want a baby. However, its when I’m reminded that this kind of love exists that I feel a (very) small pang of envy for women who already have it. Sure, I know what its like to love a child. I love my niece zealously. I have loved students (when I was teaching) with a comparable zeal. I love my kitty......if that counts. But I realize that all of this can fit in the shadow, many times over, of motherhood. This love is terrifying. Seems that it would swallow me and never spit me back out. It’s no wonder that most of us are somewhat afraid of loving unbridled and unrestrained.

Bigger picture: as I drove home late last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about how love, in general, truly amazes me. The fact that God gives us the ability to experience it in so many ways and to such passionate extensions is a little overwhelming. And, for some reason, after holding Christopher and observing him with his parents, it was as if I could see all the facets of love in my life intertwine. They braided themselves inside me; a different strand of color for every way I've encountered them recently. Births, deaths, falling in love (and abiding in it), loyal friendships, relentless family support, answered prayers (even when the answer is "no")....... And before I knew it, this knot of thankful, humbled emotion was reavealing itself in tears. I could feel it in my bones and in my gut. It was impossible to ignore. Call me simple or overly "sweet" if you will. My cynicism is usually pretty prevalent in daily conversation, and I don't skip to work everyday singing "Kum Ba Yah", passing out daisies to strangers (although I did swerve to avoid hitting a squirrel today, and I even hugged my boss on Monday). But when I experience even 60 seconds of such a sensation, I feel it needs to be shared.

Enough of that......let's talk about sex and rock-n-roll now.....