The last push and first breath of the rest my life. She tore through the veils of my body like a rocket and turned me into a mom.
To birth is to be handed life and death on the same platter. There's no way else I can explain it.
I'm not sure why this photo reminds me of her birth. Maybe because she is just so plainly there? Like when a baby lands at your breast, they are just there.
They weren't there and then they are, in all of their extraordinary baby-ness—
a life force,
the meeting of eyes,
the clasping of hands.