On Monday, June 29, 2009, at 7pm exactly, my daughter was born. And my life will never be the same again. Ever.
Francesca Rose was 8 pounds, 3 0unces and 21 inches long. We have been in the hospital the last few days as her amazing mother starts her recovery from a c-section. I have had 9 hours of sleep in the last three days and am, somehow, not tired. The birth of my child is, beyond all comparison to anything else that has thus far happened in my life, the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. The ups and downs that happen from here on out will all be worth it, no matter how high or low they go. A bold statement to be sure, but an unbreakable truism nonetheless.
Anybody who has perpetuated the species knows what I am talking about here. For those of you reading this who have not I can only explain the birth of my daughter like this: picture a time in your life (or times in your life if you’ve been doing it right) where you felt the most happiness, the most contentment, that you’ve ever felt before. A great date. A fantastic meal. A job well done. A past time thoroughly enjoyed. Now, multiply that by 100 and you’ll come close to feeling what I felt when I first saw my child.
Yes, it IS that amazing. At least, it was for me.
Billions of people, all going through their mundane little lives, have felt this same thing. Billions. Over thousands and thousands of years. I am not special. But I am. Because it’s MY daughter. It’s MY family. It’s MY mundane little life and it feels anything but. That is the power and the comedy of this whole thing. Life is funny. My daughter is beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, or will ever see.
I have many more thoughts on this but, for right now, I’ve got to get back to the hospital. My family is waiting for me. And I miss them dearly.
Keep it simple.