A few days ago, I had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Bea for the very first time. At 20 days old, she was gorgeous. Blue, blue, blue eyes framed by lightly sculpted brows. The cutest upturned nose that delicately said "pert". Long, elegant fingers and limbs that probably means she might become a dancer, or maybe a pianist. Perhaps a guitar player in her later years. Holding her, my maternal instincts kicked in, and I thought of my god-daughter or god-son to-be.
I may not have the luxury or the blessing of holding her/him in my arms 20 days after s/he will be born, but I have already committed to being a good, positive presence in her/his life.
Oh, to have that much hope about, placed in, a human being... it's so scary.
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