Simple and quiet and with starry, sleepless eyes, Sarah and Connor hold their precious daughter and their beloved Wilder.
My littlest babe next to me (even as I write this now) is not so much a littlest babe.
She’s three and full of words and “me too-ness” and speed, eyes full for her four older siblings, never far behind them.
So when other mamas invite me into their home, as their bodies are still healing, the warmth they hold so new in their arms, the expansion of their very heart, I feel those tender moments so freshly all over again.
I’ve been there five times myself, something I will never, ever take for granted. The unparalleled introduction to a soul she feels like she’s known her whole life. And yet, with every tiny pucker, squeak, and flutter fingers learning everything for the first time, no matter how many children run around her weary self already.
And every time, it’s the simplicity of this miracle that enraptures me, that steals my very breath.
There’s, quite simply, nothing like these days.