Life

“Ten fingers, ten toes - our most popular model!” comments a friend on the other end of the country on a picture of little Mei Mei’s feet in her mother’s hands. Something we take for granted. A normal, healthy child.

I don’t, actually. Each normal child reminds me that the first grand was different, her first week lived with held breath, and life forever changed. Yet, even we who have lived that trauma tend to get lulled into complacency when all goes well.

This birth, and the brother two years ago on the other side of the world, done so simply, so quickly, a knife, a lift, a baby. Yet, how different it would be if there were not good hospitals and skilled doctors. In a different world, in a different generation, we could easily have lost the baby, or the mother, or both.

Which brings me back to life. Ten fingers and ten toes. Little head, ears, nose, mouth. All parts in place and functioning well. Perfectly made and precisely positioned. No errors, no displaced parts, all systems go.

How often do I stop and ponder the wonder of it all?

A little lump of humanity is curled up comfortably in my lap sound asleep. She is so small she doesn’t cover my lap, but curls over one leg and tucks her tiny feet down the middle. Only five days old, she hasn’t stretched out yet except when her legs are deliberately pulled out. The “fetal” position has new meaning. She’s out in the real world, but she’s not yet sure that out is all that wonderful.

And yet, in five days she has established herself. People come to visit her. Her brother kisses her feet goodbye. Gifts arrive for her. Occasionally she even raises her voice and makes a statement. In between she snuggles, or wriggles, or snuffles, or yawns.

Seven pounds of humanity bundled into a little body. Seven pounds of unlimited potential.

Life. Nothing like it. Ten fingers and ten toes. Our most popular model.