Elisha's Birth Story: A Dad's Point of View


And in that instant, in the moment when the baby was wrapped and swaddled and brought to Elise's chest, there was a sense that all the pain that had been in that room was already being repaired, the night of tension disappearing in a soothing wash of forgetfulness, memory stitched together so that we could inaccurately look back on this experience with fondness. Indeed, a miracle.

Elise was beaming. I rested my face against hers and we looked into the baby's eyes. Neither of us said anything for a long time. We were too stunned to remember to check the gender. But as the baby was carried across the room, Elise asked, "What is it?" and I can still hear a voice saying, almost as an afterthought, "It's a girl."

The girl is lying three feet to my right now. She's in her bassinet, taking a nap next to my desk. Her hair is dark with light highlights. It waves in places, curling at the back of her neck. She has a round belly, a dimple on her chin like me. She just took a bath and is wrapped in a white blanket. She's making small noises. Her name is Zo?.

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