Promise

Tonight, I caught a glimpse.  The warm front pushed in and the snow melt caught on the breeze, mixing with the scent of a Springtime rain.

There's been a thaw, and the snowdrops are being tricked, deceived right out of their snug garden beds.  If I close my eyes, I know why.

The breeze blows that damp, earthy smell right over me.  A smell that will forever remind me of rain and sunshine and the 3 babies I welcomed in Spring.

Although I love all my babies equally, there is something precious to me about a Springtime baby.  July is downright miserable for welcoming newborns, heat and humidity forcing us indoors with fans and air conditioners blowing.  But in Spring, everything is perfect.  I can dress my little ones up in soft woolens and we can venture out, yes, or snuggle deep inside.  So many animals welcome babies in the Spring - and something just feels right about it.  A long deep winter of growing someone in a dark and secret place, only to present her on a brilliant Spring day, blinking in the warm sunlight.   Like a wobbly new lamb, greeting the world with exuberant cries.

Tonight I stand by the open window for just a moment, and I catch a glimpse of something I had yet to visualize.  Me, here, with someone new, watching a Spring rain out my window.  I'm feeling pretty full of baby these days, pushed against by a new set of hardening bones  doing their best to stretch right out.  My joints are beginning to feel wobbly and uncertain.  Things are changing. I am changing.

A false thaw, to be sure, but a true promise.  Soon.  To me, Spring and babies will always smell the same, both ripe with the promise that only new life can bring.


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