Last week the miracle happened. On Friday, the 11th, I gave birth to a baby girl. She was and still is a long skinny thing, weighing 6 lbs 12 oz and 21 inches long. She is totally beautiful (and yet I recognize that most babies are quite ugly as newborns—so either parenthood blinds me or she really is quite stunning). She makes a million and one different facial expressions over the course of a million and one seconds (or maybe just half that much). And in those moments when I’m not on the verge of passing out from exhaustion/lack of sleep, I look at her and am overwhelmed. And as a friend with a 3-year-old agreed, overwhelmed is an understatement, but it will have to do in explaining the feeling that comes over you when you hold, touch, smell and hear this tiny thriving being that your body somehow created. Perhaps even mind-blowing is an understatement. And I was tempted to blame the reaction on my hormones dancing the samba, waltz and the lock-and-pop of the robot all at the same time (a very confused dance as I’m sure you can imagine), but even my husband commented on the feeling of being overwhelmed. So, it is more than hormones to be sure.

Unfortunately, photographs don’t do her justice. Or maybe it is the photographer. I’m still figuring out the camera I bought for my trip to the UK. Anyway, she is a thousand times cuter in person, at least. And when she smiles (which I still have yet to capture on camera in a non-blurry shot) she is a bazillion times cuter. I’m in love basically. Luckily my husband understands how my love for my daughter usurps my love for him, by a fraction of a millimeter. And luckily I understand how he might feel the same concerning her and me. I knew parenthood would be good, but I wasn’t ready to fall completely, overwhelming in love more than I ever have before. The feeling is miraculous.