I woke up this morning thinking about the day before Ezra was born.
Now, in true Emery fashion, I don't remember a single detail from the actual day. Oh wait... something's coming to me... I remember being at LeeAnn's house and sitting on her big inflatable ball while watching the birthing videos of her son Bray. I think it was even Jessica Cheatwood's baby shower that day-- I was wincing through contractions, but in complete denial that I was about to give birth... surrounded by beautiful pregnant ladies eating cake.
But what I woke up this morning thinking about was the fact that one day I didn't have a baby, and the very next day, I DID.
You know how our modern calendar is based on the BC/AD scale? All of human history was split and measured by the moment of Jesus' birth. B.C.= before Christ, A.D.= Anno Domini, or, 'The Year of our Lord'.
Well, my life had a splitting point too: the very moment Ezra took his first earth breath. His little lungs reacted to his new environment and they sucked in oxygen, and my whole infrastructure as a human being rearranged itself without the slightest comma.
For many months after that moment, my arms were always full of tiny yummy baby. What on earth did I do with my arms before that first breath of his? Did I fold them across my chest? Let them dangle all loosey goosey?
I remember Ezra was born in the wee hours of a Sunday morning. Visitors started coming to the hospital later in the day, and they told us how Ezra's birth had been announced at church and everyone had cheered and clapped with excitement, with joy. That was the first time it really sank in... I just gave birth to a baby. It had to be true now! It had been announced at church by golly! There was no denying it now, because OTHERS KNEW. Them knowing it meant I had to know it; had to accept that the wee hours of the morning had actually happened and weren't just a brilliant dream.
The very next Sunday, I brought witty bitty Ezra to church with me. I sat in the cramped pew near the wall, huddled down and braced against all of the eyes of wonder around me. I felt like a giant, ostentatious billboard that said MOM real big in bold black letters on it. Ezra felt like a stranger still as he made his little mouse noises and everyone sitting behind me giggled and smiled.
I don't know why I was thinking about all of this as I lay in bed this morning, but it lulled me out of sleep and brought a warm smile to my groggy face.
Life is crazy.
And life is amazing.