O Holy Night

Saturday night I sat snuggled in bed, swimming in flannel and cotton, reading, and waiting for the phone on my nightstand to bring me some news. My brother and sister-in-law were clear across the country, in a birthing room, nearly 8 hours into labor. 

The deep darkness of night settled all around the house and snow fell quietly outside my window. I waited. I waited. I made last-minute pleas for the health of my sister-in-law and for that new little person, trying to be born. I wondered, boy? or girl? big? or small? sooner? later?

Finally, around 10:30 a text popped up from my other brother, "Baby here. Dan will call you with the details. Yay!" I held my phone and waited. A few minutes later it rang and my brother let me know that I had a perfect new nephew, Parker. Yay, indeed.

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Later, as I thought of the birth and its juxtaposition to the Christmas season I remembered a quote I once heard.

"Each night a child is born is a holy night."

These lovely words are part of a song written by Sophia Lyon Fahs. (You can read about her here.)

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Just hearing that a baby is born can send me right back into the delivery room, to the births of my own two children. The wonder and deep awe comes right back to the surface and I can feel that same golden dreamy feeling again. I wonder if parenthood is such that once you've witnessed the miracle of birth you can always easily revisit that sacred place. I hope I always can. There's no place like it.

Congratulations to my brother Daniel, his wife Jennifer and big brother Cooper. Parker is a lucky little guy to have the three of you!