>> Saturday, February 16, 2013
Note: I wrote this piece for lesbianfamily.com, where it was published, yesterday. Please do check out the other pieces and and information. It's a fabulous resource for lesbian/queer families!
I approach parenting with intention and gratitude. I soak in the minutiae, with an acute awareness that I might never have another shot at this. Might never again feel my body grow vibrant and full with the promise of new life. Might never again hear the sweet mews and snuffles of my newborn, nor laugh over my infant’s face and fists full of avocado, nor watch my toddler bravely leap from the bottom step for the first time. Perhaps other parents enter into their unique adventures with similar mentalities. Maybe they, too, realize what a gift the blessing of a child is. But there is something that feels especially weighty when one can say so literally, “my child is nothing short of a living, breathing gift, and I strive not to take a moment of this child’s incredible presence in my life for granted.”
Many couples in similar situations pursue different paths to parenthood, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in three decades of embracing this wild and precious life, it’s this: when the Universe speaks to you, listen. When The Answer falls into your lap, hold tight. I’ll freely admit there have been moments in life that have left me wondering, “have I been led astray by my intuition? Are these boots hiking in the right direction?” It is in these pivotal and often confusing moments that the nearly infallible words of Max Ehrmann’s Desiderata remind me, “whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the Universe is unfolding as it should.”
The Universe got this one right, Dear Readers. So very, impossibly right.
And so, I hold tight to each first as though it’s the last, for The Answer is sometimes different the second time around. This is – if we are honest with ourselves – understandable. The Question, after all, is ever-changing and complicated by Life. Until The Answer presents itself again, I continue to gobble up the oft-forgettable details; such seemingly insignificant moments that can be forgotten in an instant, with barely enough time to file them away before the next whizzes past. I appreciate with gratitude that will never be great enough, and hope with ferocity tempered by quiet patience.
I trust the Universe.