An Aged Mother

   The benefits of age–of being middle aged–are taking me by surprise!
   For the first time, after five other babies, I am experiencing the overwhelming wonder and awe of how tiny my baby is!
    For the first time I am amazed at how vulnerable my baby is!
    For the first time, I am infatuated beyond words with this tiny creature, and in a constant state of adoration!
    My age has given me a healthy distance.  In my yonder years, I was a bit shocked, a bit scared, and a bit unsure of myself.  As attached as I was to each baby, I carried an uncertainty with me, and a fear that I wasn’t doing it “right.”  Newborns, after all, are shockingly dependent on their moms, and moms have a huge responsibility to their little bundle.
    But having thought I was done with having infants, and now returning to it, I have a perspective of hindsight that is all new for me.  The experience is fresh.  With this freshness I have sheer delight, almost no fear or anxiety, and abundant gratitude for this little creature, not much more in substance than a loaf of bread or a doll.  And yet he is alive; he clings to me, nestles against my chest and rests well only in my arms; only hearing my voice and sensing my touch is he truly at peace.  
     The miracle of it–this is a cliche.  Yet the miraculous aspect of this new, live person, is poignantly brought into full view, as age has swept away my concerns and left room for nothing but wonder, awe, and an embrace of pure love.