In the beginning, they're very small and very still, and you might not realize the profound nature of what you've done. But very soon they grow, they reach and pull the glasses from your nose and smile at you when they wake, and suddenly you know that you've created an entire person, and everything you do and everything you've ever said or done will shape them like clay between your palms. This is equal parts terrifying and insanely beautiful.
Last night I sat with KC and said, "They don't tell you how much it hurts to be a mother, or a father. Babies wreck you."
"How do you mean?" He said, leaning against me.
I tried to find the words, but nothing fit properly. "It's like walking around with your skin torn off - everything is so tender and raw. I've never felt so much. You look at this sweet thing, this person, this other-worldly being, and you think, my god, I can't imagine a life before her, or a life without her, and to imagine her hurt or sick or scared makes your entire body ache. She's blown my heart wide open."
He smiled at the floor and nodded. "I agree. You could end a war with this kind of love.”