Monday, April 30, 2012

Magic


Photo: Mbukushu mother and child crossing a river
credit


Tonight, I held the downy soft head of a newborn.

Less than 24 hours old and welcomed into our world by bright lights and a rush of nurses, only finding comfort in his new mothers soft body.

How absolute are mother and child?  Each made for the other.

A new mother terrified at the pains and cramping of labor, unsure of the road ahead and blown away by unreal idea of a baby coming from...WHERE??

All anxiety disappears with the first touch, the intake of their first breath in unison, the closeness of his first meal.  

So soft and fresh, the back of my fingers skimming his doughy little cheek. Snuggling my nose into his tiny neck, I inhale his sweetness.  This isn't the first time I have met this little traveler.

Months ago, I had a dream.  In this dream I saw a small sad boy and he was alone.  He had the look of a child who was abandoned.  In the fuzzy way that conversations happen during a dream, the boy told me he wanted to live.

"I want to live," he whispered.  "I want to live!"

You see, his mother had made an appointment with Planned Parenthood that week.  She had chosen abortion.  She is young, her ex-boyfriend uninterested, she has no job and lives with her own mother.  Becoming a mother seemed next to impossible.

Unsure of what to do or say, I simply wrote her a post-it note.

"Please talk to me before you decide to do anything."

Tonight I held him, his heart next to mine, he slept.  Tears washing my face at the miracle of this Boy.  The miracle of this young mother who chose to be brave and take her place among the mothers of time.  All the mothers who have gone before us, they welcome her.  Our first mother leads the way, passing an infinite love and crown of motherhood to this young girl.  The miracle of life is undeniable and so is the destruction of it's unnatural loss. 


I cannot help to think, maybe I had a small part in giving this little traveler, this little boy a life.     

Lying in bed, my own children with their dirty feet and uncombed hair cuddle next to me.  I am so grateful for the magic of motherhood, for the wisdom, love and nurturing that has been secretly passed from generations of our mothers, connecting us all.  Thank you.


13 comments:

  1. No words except; beautiful

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  2. Exactly what Elsie said. Wow Scabs. WOW!

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  3. i love the thought of this. and i love feeling like we're a band of mothers, as you described. there's something catchy when you grasp the real vision of womanhood and motherhood. so glad you are able to pass on the spark.

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  4. Oh you guys! This story makes me so weepy. It is so close to my heart and I'm so thankful all of you could feel the delicate emotion here.

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  5. This is beautiful, Scabs. To think that we were all like this tiny baby. Vulnerable, but given the chance to be here.

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  6. I have always believed that once u become a mother to your child u become a mother to the rest of the world.

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  7. Oh Joy!!! I am so eternally grateful you followed your heart and your "dream" to help this desperate mother to follow through with life! You are wonderful! ...be the change, right....so beautiful.

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  8. it was an experience I will never forget

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  10. Thank you for this post. I just adore it. I came across your blog yesterday through the rabbit hole of checking out other blogs. I adore you candidness and willingness to share. Thank you. I work with teen-moms daily and understand. You did it! Blessings Ms. Scab. Hugs...

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