God Bless the Child

Dear Laylah,

You arrived with triumphant fanfare on the Fourth of July. You waited until the stroke of midnight to begin requesting your release into the world and eight hours later you were placed onto my chest and we said hello and made eye contact for the first time. I have always imagined the romance of such a moment but I was humbled to discover that it is not something that can be anticipated. There is simply no way to imagine in advance what it will feel like to be a mother, to have the child inside of you suddenly forever on the outside. You’ve been here now for three weeks and I wanted to share a few things about what came before you were born.

I waited a while to begin sharing that I was pregnant with you. I made a few calls to my family and then waited several more months to share the news with anyone else – even those that I desperately wanted to know about you. I knew that it was a fragile time for both you and I. I wanted to protect you as you grew in those early days of gestation. Moreover, it was the last time where you and I would lead an entirely private existence. It is only natural that once you are alive in the world, you become the business of many others besides just me. People greet you with curiosity, care and concern and my pride as your mother has taken over as I want to share your face with the world. The phone calls and messages come in daily to see how the new baby is adjusting and how her mother is handling this dramatic life change. But in the beginning, it was just you and I. I woke up with you, carried you with me throughout each day and went to bed with you each night as the most tender and gentle part of my life – so tender it had to be cradled long before your birth.

Once people knew you were coming many guesses were made about the kind of person you would become, what your preferences would be, and what you might come to offer the world. All of these speculations were based on what each person knew about your parents. For example, it would seem likely that you would have a future in music and skinny legs, among other things. I wanted to tell you now that you’re here how clearly it strikes me that human design is not a formula where 1 + 1 = 2. It’s true you may carry similar physical characteristics and be influenced by our mannerisms, but here you are – your own person entirely. You arrive with the choices of your ancestors, your parents and your own traveled soul. You, like each of us, get to choose who you will become in this life and while your mother and father may have preferences about who that person will be, WE do not get to choose – only you do.

My dear friend told me this week that you and I will share so many things that are difficult to foresee. Right now the only thing I know for sure about you is that you are beautiful and your watching eyes suggest you are already much older than the three weeks you’ve been alive. I know that you will not have to wonder a single a day in your life whether or not you are loved. I know that you have changed my forever and for you I will always give my best, knowing that it will inevitably be imperfect. I know that I cannot always protect you as I could while you were in my womb and that my inability to do so will give you the necessary growth experiences to inform your character as it develops and responds to your destiny. I suspect you will make us laugh and know that you will continue to multiply our joys and lessen our sorrows.

Laylah, it will be a while before I can explain this to you in a way that you will cognitively understand, but you are teaching me the deepest and truest love I’ve ever known. I spent 26 entire years thinking of my own needs first and doing everything I could to make sure they were met. I came first even when it was not the kindest or most mature choice to make. Because of you, I am learning how to share in a way that transforms. I am glad that taking care of you is the most important thing I have ever done with my life. Even though you give millions of reasons to love you, it is not for those reasons that I do -- it is for no reason at all and it reaches its arms all the way around my life and deep into my heart. You will never know who I was before you came into my life because I will never be her again. Becoming your mother made me the whole woman I will need to be in order to raise you. Thank you for choosing me and thank God you will not be the sum of parts, instead you will forever be Laylah Emmanuelle . . . something entirely new.

“Them that’s got shall get
them that’s not shall lose
so the Bible said and it still is news
Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that’s got his own
That’s got his own.”