My heart raced.
Butterflies.
So many butterflies.
She didn't say, "It's a boy!"
She didn't ask if we even wanted to know.
Curtis did. I was curious, but I would've liked the surprise.
"I see a penis!"
"A brother! She'll have a brother," we cried.
His birth changed my life.
In the way birthing your child does.
But in the way that becoming free does too.
Emancipated from the trauma of our first birth.
From fear.
From letting the hospital take over my body.
This time I was in charge.
Curtis, me and Jesus.
No intervention at all. Just support.
And it was there.
I danced with Jesus then, all day long that day.
As I brought His son here.
I danced with Him.
Through the labor.
Through the pain.
Curtis guided me, held me, prayed for us, danced with us.
Through feeling like I was near death.
To being brought completely back to life.
Full, deep, lungs-filled life.
We brought you here, Cedar, together.
To heal this place in your own way.
With your gifts.
It was rescue.
Redemption.
Peace.
It was holy.
And here you are.
A whole trip around the sun.
Still I often stop.
Stop just to marvel.
I've known you all along.
I smell your head.
Close my eyes, I can't help it.
Hold you, sleeping, warm, soft against my bare chest.
Whisper to you, "All of me loves all of you..always, always."
Thank the Lord.
My Dear Jesus...
Oh how I thank you Lord.
Your gift is full.
Your gift.
Your inheritance.
Thank you. THANK YOU!
Silence is often the best praise.
I just soak in the goodness entrusted to me.
Cedar.
Mighty you will be.
Roots deeply sown.
Living in faith as you were taught.
Love with all your being my boy.
ALL YOUR BEING.
Every breath in you.
Use it for love.
My son.
My great, peaceful gift.
I love you Cedar.
How I love you SO!!
Listen: Your Hand in Mine.
