This is us. At just about this time, three years ago. My third baby. Just born and immediately held close. Me holding her, him holding us... she was here. We did it.
Not in this picture but right there, just out of frame- her big sister, strong, curious, determined to greet her baby sister. Her big brother, hardly "big" at all and hardly noticing anything out of the ordinary, playing games with the midwife. That very same midwife who I trusted and who trusted me. The midwife who knew this baby and I could get to this moment. And there was my doula, my magical friend, a source of strength, a source of calming assurance that I was cared for and respected. She took this picture that captures everything about that moment.
That ordinary morning but most extraordinary moment. That moment when I got to be the first to hold a child of mine. When that most basic wish was respected by the beautiful women there with me. "Reach down and pick up your baby." Those words still (and always will) resonate in my mind. She was here, we did it. So much gratitude.
My third baby. My first birth. We did it.