The Miracle of Ivy

Birth is such a celebration. First, we celebrate the mother, her strength, patience, her ability to handle unbelievable pain. She becomes a type and shadow of the Savior as she puts her own life in jeopardy for that of her child along with the symbolic blood and water. It is a celebration of the midwives. I've seen it before. They actually listen to the mother and let her do what she feels is best for her. There were four women, well, five, counting the me, cheering her on, soothing her, tell her how amazing she is. And I celebrate the father. It is often hard to be the father at the birth of your child. Brian did exactly what Ashley needed, not too much, not too little. That is a very tricky balance with a wife that is full of pain. And of course, we celebrate Ivy! She came out kicking! Only a day old and we all love her like it has been forever--which it will be, forever, that is. It is very hard to watch your own child have a child. I still don't want her to hurt, after all these years. I still want to take it away and do it for her. But then she couldn't celebrate the miracle of childbirth, the unbelievably, wonderful, painful experience of having your own child. Welcome, Ivy!