I was curled up on the couch, listening nonchalantly, on Thursday, July 18 when Baba called Jul and Jonathan on speaker phone. Earlier in the day, when Julia said Jonathan had something to tell us, and that we should call them when Baba got home, we all thought he had some amazing new news about school. So when the two of them yelled together into the phone, "We're having a baby," I was more stunned than I have ever been in my life. And so, I burst into tears.
When we first found out about him (or her), the baby was a mere orange seed, with a beating heart the size of a poppy seed. A poppy seed! A miracle that led Pappy, the new great-grandpa, to christen the wee one Poppy Seed. At least until we know him, see him, touch his soft cheeks. Right about now, our sweet little baby is about the size of a blueberry with a beating heart and brain cells developing at 100 per minute. She (or he) has working kidneys and an umbilical cord that could be seen in an ultrasound (though we have not yet). She also has nose slits and eyelids - and also a hint of a tail! I am so in love with her I could bust!
I know every baby will be wonderful and special and important, but the spreading of the news of the first baby in a family has a dream-like awesomeness that dances into your life and makes you wonder why everyone with babies isn't floating on air all the time. It's the biggest news of the century, this sweet baby, I don't care what CNN is saying. When we went to a theater performance the other night, I kept wishing I had my warm little niece or nephew cocooned in my arms.
I was "pinning shit" when we learned the news, likely something onto the secret board I've been compiling titled, "My Sister's Baby." And it's amazing how quickly my night went from, "what random craft should I try to make before I go back to school?" to re-evaluating my spirituality. Because I have, with the coming of Poppy Seed, with the growing of an entire life inside my own sister's own belly.
I know these are words belonging to a parent, and I am by no means trying to steal the thunder of the beautiful new parents, but I can't believe how much I love that little life. I had only known it for two nanoseconds before my heart swelled ten sizes. It's so full, my eyes overflow every time I think about it. And worry! I am so worried about that child that I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight. Oh, Baby, it's going to be a long twenty five years for the both of us! For all of us! And we're SO happy!
I've always believed that no one could ever be as blessed as I have been in the way of parents. But faced with the reality of Jonathan and Jul as parents, I've come to think that this new little acorn may have landed my luck. Poppy Seed will learn, from her (his) papa, how to shoot a gun and handle an Xbox controller. She will gain a healthy respect for Darth Vader and, if lucky enough, will find herself apt with her hands and smart in the wilderness. From her mama, Poppy Seed will learn the Sun Salutation and how to clip coupons like a pro. She will have the prettiest handwriting, but more importantly, she'll remember to use it to write loving notes that will lift others up. She will know innately how to take care of her baby dolls (and younger siblings) better than any other kid on the block and how to crochet an afghan. And from both, this Poppy Seed will grow to be: brilliant and moral and creative and selfless and endlessly caring; Poppy Seed will know: how to read and write and think like someone who can change the world; and Poppy Seed will; Poppy Seed will have integrity and class and compassion, a loving heart and courage and strength. And these are the things that will make up Poppy Seed's life. His (her) roots and his wings.
But these are weighty things for a little one the size of a blueberry to worry about just yet. For now, Poppy Seed is growing, tucked safe away by the grace of so many things, Great and small. And showered in all the prayers and love of the people who adore her (his) parents, and now her. Working hard, we hope, at simply growing, in all its complexity. And we are so overjoyed that he (she?) is coming!
-R.E.A. (a.k.a. Aunty)
