Last week, I discovered, with no small amount of horror, that I never wrote down Teyla's birth story.

She turned five last Wednesday, my sweet little warrior princess with the impish grin. She was a born on a cold January day, with snow ghosts skittering across the pavement and the sun shining bravely in an arctic blue sky. Which is ironic, really, because everything about her birth was as warm and comforting as a blanket fresh from the dryer. I blogged the basics that night, but I apparently never went back and recorded the details, like I did with the other kids. (Natalie's birth story is eight pages, single-spaced, Lord have mercy.)

At first, I mourned the details lost. I love a good birth story, and the details make it come to life. (I realize that's not always a good thing.)

But if there was ever a birth story to paint in abstract instead of realism, it is Teyla's.

The nurses and my OB were kindness personified, knowing my first two births had been dramatic and I had lost a baby just 11 months prior. They wanted me to enjoy bringing this little girl into the world, instead of giving birth to a child in a haze of pain and terror. They ordered my epidural early, they checked on my constantly and brought me warm blankets. They even let me eat during labor; chicken broth had never tasted so good. Their thoughtfulness was rewarded with a baby girl born by mid-afternoon. I laughed at how easy it was; I had never relished giving birth before.

In my heart, that day is painted in the palest pink, the pearliest white. Broad paint strokes of chunky red sweep through, raucous life-giving joy. It was tender and holy and healing.

To paint such beauty with the right angles of visible reality hardly does it justice. It was so much more.

So is she.


  1. SO BEAUTIFUL! This morning, I spoke with a girlfriend who just delivered her first baby last week. She was emotional, grateful, giggly, in love with her husband, and in awe of her perfect little baby. It may have been five years ago that your sweet Teyla entered your lives, but it doesn't sound like you've lost any of that wonder and love!

  2. Mmmmm. That does sound warm and cozy and not at all like all the details I think I need to know in a birth story. I like your version better.

  3. She is adorable. I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that she's five. Seems like yesterday I was worried about her falling down the stairs in that picture you posted. Tomorrow she'll be a high school senior like my girl is! LOL

    Give her a big hug from a lady in Texas who she has no idea is. :-)

  4. Beautiful! And it may be my season of life but I think I prefer this approach. :)