From the nowhere into the everywhere? I say -- from a magical somewhere smack into my center.
Soon as I enter the hospital room, beaming dad ceremoniously hands the bundle over to me -- as mom looks on still in a drugged daze. I accept her gingerly with the vaguely-remembered juxtaposition of arms: the left pillowing the head, the right, catching the back and buttocks. As I relax, she fits snugly like she has always belonged there -- into the crook of my arms.
I gaze deeply ino the tiny face, surprisingly full and unfurrowed. No after-birth blemishes there. I will her eyes to open, and they obey languidly, reluctantly, revealing the folds I want to see. I will her to smile, and she obliges with almost a chuckle. "Do you know me," I ask softly, and the half-laugh makes an encore.
How does it feel to finally have her, hold her -- our small audience wants to know.
I smile broadly, hard pressed to answer.
How explain the alchemy of feelings too new or long forgotten for words? A sense of wonder at creation. Of being mystically and inextricably linked to yet another human being. My happiness yet again dependent on another's. My peace once more fragile and imperilled.
And how give voice to a stealthy fear -- fear of the bleak prospects of this hapless country, the uncertain future of this threatened planet.
All because a child is born.