Birth of a Mother.

Probably one of the most profound things about becoming a Grandma was what my heart immediately narrowed in on in those early moments. While in awe of my new granddaughter, it was the birth of a new Mama that took my breath away.

Dawson sent the first pic of Haven lying on my sweet daughter-in-law moments after she labored for 2 days to bring her into this world. I had an instant guttural reaction to the beauty of it. I could feel anew all the ways that your body, your mind, your heart, your entire world changes in that moment. Sarah looked so calm, so natural, so resolved, and so in love. Haven hardly knew yet that she just hit the literal jackpot.

From this vantage point, as the Grandma (or "JoJo" as I am requesting), I can see it all. I know what is coming. Part of my heart breaks because I know that my kids are now vulnerable to the complexities of having their own hearts outside of their bodies. There is no going back. We cannot protect them from the inevitable. At the same time, I am far enough removed to also see it purely for the magnificent design that it is. The profound and unexplainable mystery of a girl willingly choosing to lay down her life. From this moment on, her every thought and action will move in tandem with another person. And she wants to do it more than anything else. And she will do it day in and day out. Every breath. Until one day, she let's go.

She will let go, against every instinct that has carried her thus far.

And then she, too, will wait for the call. "Come now, Mom."

And she will stand in wonder. All over again.