|One month as of February 14, 2015.|
At one month old, one can already tell his eyes will be blue. They are dark and deep as sapphires, but so were Afon's before they lightened into something sky-like, and then faded to a greeny-blue gray, like his father's.
Roan smiles. He's been smiling since he was born. I was in the hospital and I saw it, but I regret not saying anything to someone because I have this unfounded idea that no one will believe me. They'll say, "It's just gas." But it wasn't. His soul was in there. It was never more clear to me than when he emerged from the dark, warm nothingness with it intact, whole, utterly itself. A soul that struck me with awe because it was Not Afon's. Not Mine. Not Anyone's.
Even now, his smile is a clear response to stimulus; to the sound of my voice or the bright ceiling light. We joke and say, "He's like a real human being!" and "He's almost a real person!" But of course there are some who would say that a month ago, he wasn't a real human being, wasn't a real person. Or at least, that his life didn't merit protection as one.
He was barely two weeks during the March for Life, and I couldn't bear to see all the worthy reporting and testimonies in my social media feeds; and yet, I couldn't bear not to. I cried tears of joy to see all the souls, especially youth, step out in droves to speak for the tiny and voiceless. I cried tears of sorrow that they even have to.
I wished to add my voice to the millions but was too emotional and raw at the time. I wanted to say, "Look! I brought this child forth amidst much suffering; through sickness that lasted months with no relief and sucked the joy out of me; through sorrow so deep that when I looked up I saw the bottom; in childbirth, through pain that wracked my body and made me wish for death.
"I died and was in the ground and didn't know if I would ever see the light of day again. I was Osiris, broken and scattered to the four winds. I was unmade. And from the ruins, God lifted my son, perfect and immortal, and put me back together again. Don't be afraid! It is through such peril and labor and hardships that precious and wonderful things are made."
Things of great value require great sacrifice. That's the very meaning of worth.