Friday, August 5

our little songbird

The oyster is a girl. A beautiful baby girl with big blue eyes and dark curly hair. And she is by far the best-smelling creature I've ever nuzzled into.

Wren Antonia was born July 25th and ushered Luke and I into the most intense and electrifying two weeks of our lives. Within minutes of her birth it became clear that she was very sick. She was admitted into the NICU with a bacterial infection that she battled for 10 days. But yesterday we got to bring her home. Home to her crib. To her books. To her chest full of onesies. To naps beside her mom and dad. And I can't stop kissing her cheeks.

I'm sure that in the future- once I've slept and pondered and reflected- I will share more about her birth and subsequent sickness. But for now the three of us are here and we are getting to know one another. We are getting to know Wren apart from antibiotics, wires, incubators and well-meaning nurses just brimming with advice. There's a lot of eye contact and cuddling going on around these parts. And a whole lot of just listening to Wren and how she communicates with us. The whole experience brings to mind a part of a Mary Oliver poem my friend Liz shared recently:

I had nothing
better to do but listen.
I mean this

Welcome home, sweet baby Wren. It's so nice to finally meet you.

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